No I Don't Hate my Body

Overlooking the Ohio
Jessie Hart

 I recently happened on a post from a transgender woman about hating her body. Reason's of course bordered on the effects of testosterone poisoning. 

Similar to many others, I paid the price of T-poisoning. According to casual on lookers the only feminine attribute I had were my legs. I had the typical thick torso and broad shoulders of any other men. I had to try my best to camouflage my shortcomings. Because I was a cross dressing or transgender woman, I struggled with styles and sizes until I reached a level of getting it right. 

At this point too, I struggled with how I viewed my body. When I was cross dressing as a man often I was ego driven concerning my appearance. Over all I didn.t see what the fuss was all about and except the time I was at work and had to wear a freshly pressed shirt and tie, jeans and T-shirts were the way to go. It was the easy way out. 

The feminine side of my soul which was desperately trying to get out into the world was the opposite end  of the spectrum. The wonderful world of women's makeup and clothes presented a glittering opportunity to explore the world I always wanted to try. However, the fashion and makeup mishaps were numerous. It took me time to leave the fun behind and find the proper look to enable me to blend in and enjoy my time out of the closet. 

Through it all, it would have been easy to hate my male body but I didn't. Primarily because this was the body who helped me to play athletics . Playing sports was the way I kept the bullies away. I wasn't particularly good but the plan worked anyway, Also, perhaps the biggest deal with my body was how healthy it was. In fact the only operation in my life outside of dental surgery was when I had my tonsils taken out when I was a kid.  The older I became, the more I learned how wonderful good health was,

Now of course I have all the aches and pains of a soon to be seventy three year old body but I still have to remember how good my body has been to me. Primarily now since it tolerates my hormone replacement therapy and equally as important the medications I take to control my Bi-polar condition. I am indeed fortunate. 

Not long ago I wrote how some transgender elitists may pull a transer than thou with me because I had not pursued or under gone any gender realignment surgeries. In my mind why should I when I have been able to live a fairly successful life as a full time transgender woman without subjecting my body to extremely invasive operations.   

So no I don't hate my body for happening to be male. It's taken me a long, often interesting journey. 

You Said What?

 

Image from Unsplash

More than a few novice transgender women and trans men think their gender presentation is the major path to being able to survive as their authentic selves in the world. Following my nearly fifty years as a cross dresser and novice transgender woman I was locked in totally on my appearance. In other words, I had made all the stupid mistakes I could as far as my appearance was concerned. I was also becoming fairly proficient in going out as a woman. Somehow I knew something new was going to happen on my transgender path. No matter how hard I fought saving my male self the more I failed and the more frustrated I became. 

What happened was I was suddenly beginning to meet the same people as my feminine self. All of a sudden I was expected to come up with a name, wear the same wig to look similar and use it all to try to communicate with new people. By this time you may be asking how did I handle the voice situation. Early, what I did was try to mimic the women I was talking to and attempted to not talk to men at all. Yes, that worked for awhile. As I progressed in my gender transition, the more I learned I had so much farther to go.

It was around this period of my life I learned the true secret of of blending in with and being able to play in the girl's sandbox had to to with how well I communicated with other women.  Dressing similar to them was not a problem, understanding what they were saying was a whole other issue. As a guy, I worked primarily with women and prided myself on understanding what they were saying. When I transitioned to being a full time transgender woman, all of it changed. 

First of all I learned the feminine equivalent of silent communication. I learned to watch (no really watch) other women's eyes when they were talking to me. On several occasions other women helped me to stay clear of interactions with other toxic men, On other occasions I learned to take what I heard from other women very lightly because often they were carrying a knife behind their back. I was clawed several times before I learned. A prime example would come when a woman, normally at Halloween, would say I "made" a good looking woman. What they didn't say was for a man, 

Gone were the good old days of straight forward communications. As I always thought women operate on a much more layered existence then men. I had to learn a whole new communication system. Of course all the effort was worth it as I assumed my feminine place in the world. Ironically the whole experience taught me women are the stronger gender. Even though I would never go back to being a guy, my time served as a woman would make it so much easier. 

What is Normal?

 

Photo Courtesy Jessie Hart

I love this question because the easy answer is nothing is normal. The more that transphobes and other haters like to say about it, the more they prove themselves wrong. Just because they think they are in the majority of hetero-straight humans, doesn't make it normal. 

On the other hand, during my life, I disliked being called "normal". If I was normal as compared to the rest of society I would have never succeeded in being accepted into the American Forces Radio and Television service when I was in the Army. Other lesser examples were how my daughter came along against the odds as well as various college changes kept me out of the military draft as long as I did. 

For the longest time in my life, I did my best to be a normal guy. In middle school and high school I did play sports, worked on cars and begrudgingly dated girls. In other words, I did what was expected by my family and society. Of course the entire process brought extreme confusion and often pain. My parents always were fond of telling me not to be into what other people said. But of course, all of that  ended when I wanted to be a girl. Then, normal, took a whole other turn in my life.

For the longest time I considered myself less than normal when I was dealing with the everyday public. I used it as an excuse to explain my cross dressing "habit" to myself. Somehow since I felt I had a different "hobby" I was less than normal. 

Once I started to increasingly explore the feminine world as a transgender woman, all of my thought patterns started to change. Slowly but surely I began to realize I truly wasn't normal. I had been doing my best to live a lie and exist in the male world. The more I transitioned into my authentic self the more natural I felt. Often how I was feeling was the only thing which kept me going during the dark hours I went through as I learned to play in the girls' sandbox. Even though it is painful to remember and write about, the tears were real and came too often. 

The more I learned the more normal I felt. I can only assume it is because I am finally living my own feminine reality. As I face the world now, I have found my own normal 

I am now living a better life because of it. After all, normal is fairly simple. It is what you make of  it.

The Results are In.

 

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

After a reasonably short wait, my mammogram doctor contacted me and said everything turned out fine and they would see me next year. I take nothing for granted, especially with my health so I was naturally pleased. 

Others are not so fortunate I realize but I didn't remember Connie's wife had the different response from her doctor that no one wants to hear. Here  is Connie's comment:

" It's good to hear that your mammogram went OK.

I will always remember the day, many years ago, when my wife's doctor called the afternoon after her mammogram of earlier that morning. I was at home, all dressed up in my closeted feminine glory, to answer the phone, as my wife was at work. The doctor told me nothing, except that she needed to talk to my wife ASAP, so I was almost certain that she had cancer. I called her work to leave the message that she needed to call the doctor, and then proceeded to withdraw to my locked room and further depression. When she got home early, I was still hiding myself, and I could hear her crying in another room.

This may sound selfish of me, but I had never felt the urge to fully come out to her more than I did at that moment. She knew that I was "cross dressing" and hiding myself, but I had reached the point where my gender identity had far surpassed the activity of cross dressing. Of course, I wanted to be there for her, but, because of my ever-increasing withdrawal, I had become unable to be fully there for her as the husband she so much wanted me to be. That doesn't mean I didn't do my best to try, however, so I quickly de-feminized myself and went out to be with her. That dichotomy of love and guilt/shame has never been so intense for me.

Throughout my wife's radiation treatments, surgery, and chemo, I suppressed my femininity as much as I could. I tried the beard growing technique and began lifting weights. My wife was suffering from her perceived loss of femininity after her surgery (I never thought that she was any less feminine, myself), while I was trying to overwhelm my femininity by letting my testosterone aid in my physical masculinization.

My wife has been cancer-free for many years now and, thanks to reconstructive surgery, still has amazingly perky breasts for a woman in her 70's. I'm so jealous of them, of course, but I'm also happy to have shed the beard and musclebound body that I'd developed. Her attitude toward life changed after realizing that it could be cut short at any time, and I'm sure that is the biggest reason for her acceptance of me being the woman I am today. I don't recommend this method for coming out and transitioning, at all, but I think this proves that happy endings can come from tragedy."

Happy to hear your wife has been cancer free for all those years and thanks for the deeply personal comment. In many ways I consider my transgender transition came from a tragedy also. I'm sure most of you know my story. My un-approving wife passed away quite unexpectedly from a massive heart attack. All of a sudden I was free to pursue being my authentic feminine self. Not the ideal way I wanted to change my life. 

Now, down with the negative, the results are in...on with the positive!

Re Boot

Photo from Eric Mcclean on Unsplash

Ironically, our entire internet went down when I was writing this post! I guess it fits it in many ways.

Transgender women and trans men are very used to the concept of rebooting their lives. It's just another reason I find it so humorous when someone says we had a choice when setting out to live as our authentic selves. Of course along the way, our lives our stopped (often destroyed) and then rebuilt. 

I'm assuming you all have had access to a computer at some point in time or you wouldn't be reading this and would know how sometimes infuriating ill timed reboots are when you are trying to work. In fact, Liz is fairly sure her IT department has it in for her and will schedule reboots at the worst time. Being retired I am lucky and the reboots I have to go through I know are the necessary evils of life. 

It is sad and sometimes even tragic when we have to choose our paths and have to uproot jobs, friends and family to re-boot and survive. Take my brother for example, I often wonder how he is doing but can't find out since we have separated due to me transitioning from male to female. Plus, during my transition I didn't have many friends to tell since they had all passed away, including a spouse who had always told me she would accept me as a cross dresser but would draw the line and reject any idea of me being transgender. I was also near retirement age so I didn't have to worry about a job. So compared to many others perhaps I had it easier. I hesitate to say any of us have it easy on our gender journeys. 

Similar to having to wait for my internet to return and wonder how I lived with out it, I had to wait to gradually transition. A process I called transitioning within a transition. I had to reboot yet again when I made the conscious choice to begin hormone replacement therapy and move from cross dresser to transgender. I saw the difference in going from wanting to appear as a woman to coming as close as I could to aligning my feminine soul with my exterior body. Once I completed this reboot, seemingly, magically my life came together and I had the opportunity to live full time as a transgender woman.

Even going full time had it's challenges. It is one thing to dress to the nines for the occasional special event as I was doing and another to wake up every morning without any male clothing and figuring out what I was going to wear. Very quickly I went casual on days I knew I was only going to see Liz. Plus casual became the way to go when the pandemic hit. Jeans, tennis shoes and casual tops became the way to go. The only times I was getting out was normally when we went to the grocery store. No problems in going there casual either. No other women were dressed up. 

Looking into the future, I see several future reboots in my future. Getting married in October will be one of course. Looking farther I see my paranoiac possible future in a nursing home or other assisted living. By now I have been through so many reboots they almost seem normal.

  

 

Lets Get Comfortable?

 

Photo credit Jessie Hart

Yesterday was mammogram day. The price I pay for being on hormone replacement therapy. The actual treatment is very minimally painful. Getting there was the problem. I don't walk long distances well and had to park quite away from the hospital where my appointment was scheduled. Since I had been there before I knew exactly what to expect and knew there was a big ledge I could sit down on and rest before I actually went into the hospital to register. Once I made it there I figured I had it made. 

Registration was a little more complex than I bargained for as the hospital had to figure out how my Veterans Administration coverage worked into my procedure. Once that was figured out it was clear sailing to the location of the actual mammogram.

If you have never been, they ask you to strip to the waist and give you one of those stylish hospital gowns to put on. Open in front of course. From there they take you to the room where the big mammogram machine is located. I always find it humorous they are in such a hurry. Once I got undressed I was hurried  into a hallway which luckily was deserted. 

The procedure itself as I wrote is basically just a pinching of the breasts so somehow they can get a good X-ray. The unpleasantness to me came when I had to stand that long and contort my body to get a good "picture" Finally two nurses had to come in and assist in the procedure. To add insult to injury, I had to totally take off my hospital gown. Naturally I was more embarrassed than anyone else because I am sure they had seen it all before. 

Finally the procedure was over. They had gotten two X-rays on each breast and I was set free to put my clothes back on and leave. This was actually was my fifth mammogram, so I know what to expect. I am directed to have one every year because my maternal grandmother passed away from breast cancer way back in the 1950's. So I am always extremely concerned about the results of the mammogram tests. 

So far, I haven't yet received any news about the latest tests. As directed I do self examinations and have felt no lumps so I hope everything is all right. 

Now my week continues tomorrow with my latest virtual appointment with my therapist. Among other things I can explain how stressful a week it has been since also, my credit card was hacked and blocked before any significant damage was done. I had to go to my bank branch yesterday to get it settled and had to sit through a sales pitch for another credit card which I was ultimately turned down for because of my credit. Which I knew was going to happen since I am on Social Security and don't make much money. 

On the positive side, I needed the extra exercise and feel much better today because of it. I even went out early this morning to the huge grocery store we have nearby and found a few necessities we needed for the refrigerator. Plus, the rumor has it I stopped at Connie's favorite coffee chain for a couple of nitro/coffees for Liz and I.   It felt good to do it!     

An Inverted 71

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

Connie recently wrote in and commented on my post "Comfortable in your Own Skin. As always she put her own unique twist to the post and I thought I would share it with all of you:

"  My big regret is that, by the time I found myself to be comfortable in my own gender skin, the skin had already begun to wrinkle and sag. 😒

I think that quite a few trans women go through a period of time dressing in a way that may be appealing to their own masculine desires of the kind of woman they think they want. I know that this idea borders on the myth of autogynephilia, but I still believe it to be true. I know that I made that mistake for a while, however, I never let it out of the closet.

Even when I was a teenager (pre-teen, really), I just wanted to be a woman. As difficult as it may be for a girl to make that transition, it eventually dawned on me that transitioning from a pubescent boy to a woman was most likely impossible (especially back in the 60's). That's why I went into a deep suppression of my feminine self just before I turned 17. That lasted for another 17 years of my life, only to find myself spending another 17 years practicing my femininity through frequent closeted cross dressing. I didn't really need the practice, though, as I pretty much picked up right where I had left off.

Now that I'm 71 (an inverted 17?), I may have wrinkles in my skin, but I've pretty much ironed out the wrinkles of transition." 

Thank you for the informative post, As many of you know, I am nearly the same age as Connie (72) and shared the same trials and tribulations  of growing up as a teenager in the pre internet "dark ages". Then going through what only could be described as nearly a half century of cross dressing before I finally felt secure enough to fully come out of my closet. Looking back, telling myself I was transgender was much more difficult than telling anyone else. It was easier to just put those non supporters in my rear view mirror than it was to do it to myself, mainly because I had been pushing my authentic feminine self into the background for all of those years. It was so enlightening when I finally discovered I had not been cross dressing all those years as a woman when in reality I had been cross dressing as a man.

For another month or so, if I invert my age, I would be a spry 27. I shouldn't say it but I am...If I only knew then what I know now. 

Always on Stage

 

Photo Courtesy Jessie Hart

This morning I had the radical idea I would go out to the curb and bring in the two large trash cans we have. Of course I didn't put much effort into the process. Didn't shave and wore no makeup. Who would I see of importance anyhow? I knew from experience the two neighbors I do know I almost never see them at the time I was out anyhow. As luck would have it, this morning the neighborhood was positively completely packed with strangers walking their dogs, just walking or heading to the school bus stop on the corner, Without any fanfare I timed my trip to the curb and brought the two cans back up to the house. 

As I came back into the house I wondered why it is I feel as if I am always on stage when I am out doing even menial tasks that very few cis women would give a second thought to. Unless they were on their way to work, I see very few neighborhood women bringing in their trash cans in heels and hose. In fact, I can;t tell you the last time I have seen a ultra well dressed woman in this neighborhood at all. Perhaps the closest comes to me when I do my version of dressing up to go ot with Liz to dinner. 

I suppose the whole "on a stage" aspect of life extends to all women if they like it or not and especially transgender women. We are under increased pressure to appear feminine while at the same time blend in with the other women around us. Plus as we begin our gender journeys, we are playing catch up to the cis women who had the benefit of mother and peer input on necessary items such as clothing and makeup. 

Many of us also who didn't have the benefit of an easier gender transition due to feminine looks. We had to suffer (or are suffering) from the ravages of testosterone poisoning. It made or makes for too many stares or even rude comments from uncaring, nosey civilians It's no wonder we transgender folks are always looking over our shoulders. 

Then there is the other side. My deceased wife used to tell me it was not all about me when the tables were turned and I thought I was being unfairly singled out as a novice transgender woman. Often she (my wife) would go on to call me the "Pretty, pretty princess" when it all happened and said all the uproar may have not had anything thing to do with me at all. My feminine ego which was still deeply intertwined with my male ego made the whole process so confusing. 

It became ingrained it was all about me. Until I could free my strong inner feminine self, it turned out I had to be selfish to do it. Once I was able to discover who my authentic self really was, then I could set out to love others. Suddenly my selfish side was gone and I could see the world in it's truer form...good or bad, 

Regardless, as an full time transgender woman, I am certainly not the "Pretty, pretty Princess" anymore following my decidedly unfeminine trips to male dominated areas such as junk yards. As with any woman, part of our existence in being on stage. One way or another. 

Confidence?

Photo by syndey rae on Unslash

Often I have written about the power of confidence in the lives of transgender women and transgender  men. Without the confidence to pull it off, the nicest, fanciest dress in the world couldn't be worn. Sadly, confidence is similar to seeking a new job. First the employer tells you that you need more experience  then you can't get the experience  if no one gives you the chance. 

Novice transgender people face the same struggle. We need the confidence to pursue our new lives in our authentic genders but finding it can be so fragile, One day you are making it in the world and the next we are back in our closets crying in failure. It is very difficult to say the least. As time goes on, we have so many questions to figure out. Examples would be how far do we want to go in how we are presenting to the public. Will we be trying a business professional look or something much more casual. Are we more gender fluid than transgender and what about that pesky subject of sexuality. When all is said and done will you stay with the gender you always thought you preferred or will you begin to find the opposite binary more attractive. 

Better yet, what does any of this have to do with building confidence. Quite a bit, it turns out. No matter how you slice it, every little bit you accomplish adds to your well being as your authentic self. All of a sudden, life becomes easier. When you are able to own who you are, you automatically look better in that  fancy dress you bought along with new jewelry and even a new matching purse. It all looks great and so do you.

Keep in mind though, no matter how much confidence you have build up, there is always the chance a stray civilian will come along and "clock" you. Meaning somehow, someway the person has punctured your gender persona and ruined your day. Don't worry, they will go on their nosey ways soon enough and leave you alone. 

Another important thought to remember is we all as human beings have an unconscious aura we project to others. When I am in new or challenging situations, I try to specifically project female to the people I am interacting with. I try to take every idea I can to present authentically as my authentic gender. Believe me when I say I have had my confidence shattered too many times not to. 

My only advice is always be positive and expect the best and not try to put yourself in the worst possible situations. Perhaps you have seen the commercial on television from  one of the well known bourbon liquor distillers which says where ever their bourbon is served, you are welcome also, Now, we all know how many red neck bars we transgender folk would not be welcomed in. The moral to the story is do not go overboard where you try to go. Take it easy and gain your confidence in mellower venues. 

Remember diamonds are not a girls best friend, confidence is.