Gender Lost and Found

 

Image from Patrick Hawlick
on UnSplash.  

Navigating the path of lost and found is often very difficult for a transgender woman or transgender man. Speaking for me only, my path was filled with many holes and dead ends before I ever saw any success.

Perhaps, even more frustrating was the fact that once I thought I had made a significant move forward, I would hit a brick wall and be rejected again, and desperation set in. Too many times, at the beginning of my feminine experience when I had no clue of what I was doing wrong when I had enough courage to leave my dark closet. It finally occurred to me that I had had enough of my frustrating existence as a man. Sadly, some days I was on my transfeminine game. Some days not so much as there was so much to learn. Such as, on the days when my makeup, hair and wardrobe looked presentable, I caught myself making the same old male scowl I had perfected to keep the world away. It got so bad, I even had a little girl point me out to her mom by saying “Look at the big MEAN woman” Not the image I wanted to portray but at least I passed the woman part. The gender cup was half full, and I had learned a valuable lesson.

My biggest challenge was putting together my feminine image once I succeeded in getting it out of the mirror. The mirror was always kind to me by telling me just what I wanted to hear. While the public was brutally honest with me and they were my mirror. Sometimes I found what I was looking for and was accepted as a trans woman, and some days I wasn’t. The classic lost and found. My goal always was to keep my gender finds much more frequent than my losses. What I never knew was how difficult that would be. I thought I had a good understanding of what a woman’s life would be all about, until I learned how wrong I was. It seemed my lessons were like peeling back the layers of an onion. Even to the point of shedding tears when I was not successful.

The more I followed the obscure gender signs on my path, the more of my male life I lost and of course, he hated it. With the hate came an alliance with my second wife to stop me from finding more of my transgender self. The two on one battle was never fair, but I knew I would have to fight it anyway for my self-survival. The ultimate lost and found was at stake for me. I had a life to lose when I transitioned as I faced the very real reality of losing my marriage, family, friends and employment. On the other hand, I faced the growing reality I could live out my lifetime dream of living as a woman on my terms.

Ultimately, I discovered I uncovered a life so rich and full, I wondered how I had ever lived without it before. Of course, I am referring to my new life as a transgender woman. I found my unique life between the two main binary genders gave me a perspective on life that many others just don’t have. I never lost my knowledge of what men think, while at the same time gaining an idea of what women were thinking too. In fact, several women I knew after I transitioned reached out to me for ideas about problems they were having with their men. I knew I had finally arrived and had gained more than I had ever lost.

As I could see the distant finish line on my gender path, I picked up speed and did things such as start gender affirming hormones or HRT. The hormones never made me transgender but helped me to sync up my internal gender issues. I was so fortunate when the doctor said I was healthy enough to start his hormonal program. Minimal dosage or not, I was on my way again.

Even though, I don’t think I would wish gender lost and found on anyone, for me, what I went through made life interesting. Just to understand in my own way what ciswomen go through in their lives as close as I could took me closer to my goal of jumping to what I saw as the side of the gender border, I wanted to be on. I even lived through the old “bait and switch” side of life when I thought I was being successful, but I wasn’t. Ultimately, learning more and more transgender lessons as I did.

 

 

 

It's Halloween Season

 

Image from Andrea Li
on UnSplash.

It is finally here, the season that all cross dressers and novice transgender women dream about, Halloween. It is the magical day when we can be ourselves without all the paranoia of being caught and exposed as a man wanting to be feminine. The time when everyone has a chance to cross the gender line and be themselves.

These days, since I sadly don’t participate in Halloween much anymore, I don’t write much about it. But back in the day, I was fanatical in my Halloween preparations. Without fail, I would begin thinking of my “costume” the first of October and change my mind several times before Halloween itself. I always felt a transgender woman had the right to change her mind. Would I try to be sexy this year or try for a more authentic “costume” such as a professional woman look. Major decisions I needed to make with the added pressure of knowing it would be another year before I could take advantage of the parties again.

Ironically, the “costumes” I chose followed in many ways my progression as an early transgender woman. In the early days, I would try to dress sexy and get away with the shortest mini dresses and highest heels I could find. Of course, then, I would give myself away as more than just a casual “jokester” at Halloween by shaving my legs, wearing a long sexy wig, and having great looking makeup. Which my wife took credit for when she wasn’t and didn’t wear any makeup at all. Even the most casual ciswoman observers at the parties I went to could tell how serious I was about looking my best as a woman.

As I said, I quickly grew out of my sexy/trashy Halloween costumes and began to dream of being accepted my mistake as a “real woman” at the parties I went to. That began my era of actually being mistaken for a woman just getting off work and coming to one of the parties I went to. I was professionally dressed in a dress and heels and ended up surprising other guests I had known for years. For the evening, I went with another woman other than my wife and had to sadly turn down a request to go with another couple to a different party. Later on, I learned that the man was a politician who was elected to Washington, so my political career was quickly ended by saying no.

Outside of that party, there was only one other party I went to when I was dressed in a moderately sexy “costume”. It was during my stay in New York and another night I got out of the house without my second wife going with me, for some reason. This time, my invitation came from one of my female managers where I worked, so I looked forward to what the evening had in store for me. It turned out my sexy “costume” hair and makeup fit it perfectly with the other women I ended up meeting for the first time.

I ended up meeting everyone in my manager’s house and they were all there when I arrived. I will never forget the delight I felt when I saw they were all dressed like me, so unknowingly I had dressed to blend with them. Also, I will never forget the hush that fell over the room as the other women looked me over from head to toe. I ended up tagging along in my heels, hose and mini skirt with all the other women who were almost as tall as I when we made our way to a close by neighborhood bar where the party was taking place. I had my misgivings about how I would be treated there, but after I was in the bar for a while, there was no indication from anyone that I was not anyone different than I appeared. I was even asked if I wanted to dance by a man. All I know was the night flew by in a hurry and my wife did not speak to me for days because she saw my “costume” before I left.

Even though my Halloween highs were very high, sadly they were accompanied by very lows I needed to suffer through. I became very depressed and mean and tried to make everyone around me feel the same way. My problem was only ultimately solved by getting out of my dark gender closet more than just once a year.

In order for me to exist in a life I was discovering I needed, I had to set Halloween aside as just another day. Which ultimately took all the fun and drama away from it. But sacrifices had to be made for me to live as a transgender woman and Halloween was just one of them.

 

Taking a Break from the Elephant?

 

No more Elephants! JJ Hart,

Taking a break from the elephant? I guess finally I am.

This morning, with groceries running low in the house, my wife Liz and I decided to run out in the rain to our nearby coffee shop to grab coffee and a breakfast snack. Since I was not anticipating meeting anyone else in the world, I just grabbed my purse and headed out the door with Liz. No makeup or anything since we were just going through the drive through. When we returned home and in a dry space, it occurred to me that I had retired the elephant in the closet of my life.

Excuse my language, but that damn elephant has always been a part of me for as long as I can remember. It was somehow a part of every decision I made. I could not take a break if I wanted to. If I was on a vacation with my second wife, I could not relax because I was thinking so much how I would feel if I could do it as a woman. Usually, after the vacation was over, I just wanted to get back to work to take my mind off the elephant in the room…my transgender issues.

I finally came to a point when I quit worrying about who I was gender-wise. I was just me and that had to be good enough. Surely though, I needed a lot of help to make it to that point in my life. I was deeply insecure about my transfeminine self and needed whatever public reassurance I could get. More than not, the reassurance came from having no feedback at all when I was out in the world. No laughing or staring to ruin my entire experience. I just could not take any sort of break until I became better at my public presentation all the time. I was still two people trying to come together.

All of this extended over to my writing which at this count is over seven thousand posts over ten years on one platform I write on. On occasion, I go back through my earlier posts to see what if there were any changes there were.  When I did, I was amazed at how centered in I was on my feminine appearance and not much else. I still had not learned what the elephant in the room was trying to tell me, there was so much more to being a woman than my appearance. I could not take a break until I learned that ciswomen lead a more difficult, layered life than men, and I needed to adjust and do better if I was ever going to really succeed.

I don’t think I truly conquered all of my fears of merging my worlds together until Liz and I began to take bus tour vacations to various parts of the country. Primarily, when I needed to stand in line for the first time in many years with other women waiting to use the restroom. The entire process tested my new outlook on the world in a space which was considered a women’s only environment. I remembered what I learned from all my past experiences, did what I had to do, washed up and left. With no adverse feedback from any potential haters or bigots. I was just me using the restroom.

With all of that behind me, I began to relax even farther and enjoy all the new scenery the trip had to offer, for the first time as me. I was on my own and to hell with the elephant which had taken up so much room in my closet. Another chapter in my life had been closed. The only break I took was from my daily writing routine, to allow myself a chance to recharge my batteries and hopefully do a better job which I had never been professionally trained at. I just started writing to hopefully help others with similar issues.

These days, since I have retired from my elephant and am still taking a break from all the problems and commotion he caused, sometimes I don’t know how to act. After all, I needed years to rebuild the damage he caused. Taking a break, now, means a lot more to me than just taking a vacation. I am sure before the next adventure we take; I will still feel the same residue from past gender world mishaps I needed to overcome and move forward, but at least I don’t have to ruin my days worrying about it.

It is much easier to pack for a trip for just one person. The only person which really mattered all along which makes taking a break much easier to do.

 

 

If I was a Betting Person

 

Image from Jeshoots.Com on 
UnSplash.

In my life, I have never been much of a betting person at all.

In addition, there were many times I would have bet against myself when I thought of ever making it to my dream of being a fulltime transgender woman. I had a real problem remembering all the negatives I encountered when I first left my closet and went out into the world. As I always mention, my gender woman’s workbook was totally blank when I started my life. The only fact which was rapidly becoming sure to me was that was I positive something was wrong with me.

Probably the only thing I would have been certain of was the gender issue I dealt with was deep and very complicated. Had I known how to bet on it, I would have. The only thing I would never bet on was I had my life completely backwards. Since I was born into a male world, I stayed there way too long. Staying on course to be the best man I could.

For awhile I thought I was successful in my male life as I held the bullies at bay by playing sports and working on cars. The proof was when I finally did work through my issues and transitioned, the very few people who knew the old male me were totally surprised when I told them. Proof I hid my true self very well, often sadly. I was hiding myself too well and, in the meantime, hurting my already frail mental health.

By this time, my male self was betting against any idea I could ever come out into the world as a transfeminine person. In fact, he did not know what the term meant. Following the adversity I went through coming out, he found out what perfecting our new life was all about. It was about going out as much as I could and exploring an exciting, yet scary, new world. It was about buckling up and staying the gender course I was on, when the times got rough. Which was often. I never had any of the feminine attributes a few cross dresser or transgender women had, so my path was often difficult.

As I became better at my feminine presentation, I began to think my dream was possible after all. I could even bet on it. For once, the optics of gender were working for me. Controlling the optics took a lot of work when I was rejected as a woman for so long. I would have pulled my chips back off the table and headed home. The big difference now was, I was able to outbluff others around me and stay in the game. I am sure no one mistook me as a cisgender woman, but on the other hand, no one was mistaking me as some sort of a bogus person trying to fool the public as a beginning drag queen. Betting on myself as an authentic person turned out to be the best move, I ever made in my life.

A good plan went a long way as I was able to carve out a new life in a relatively short time. I was not as shy as I was as a man and the world opened for me. After many false starts, success began to happen. I was staying out of my own way as a trans woman and letting my inner woman run my life.

I also learned where I was welcome to be a betting person in the world. For the most part, cisgender women accepted me in their world and let me play. Men, on the other hand, never wanted to bet me on anything. Which I quickly learned was not important to me after all. As long as other women validated me, that was all that mattered and again, my life improved.

Pushing my chips to the middle of my life’s gender table and betting I could make it to my dream I always wanted to live was all that mattered. Doing away with my conservative past helped me immeasurably during this portion of my life. I did not view myself as being any sort of courageous person. Just a person who had to do what she had to do to survive in a challenging world. The question became how fast I could learn the new rules of being a woman on my own terms. Decoding the difference between male and female privileges was the biggest challenge.

At that point, the betting game I was playing became closer to a game of mental gender chess. As an excuse, I kept telling myself I was not betting at all. Just playing the odds, I was right when it came to gender. When I expected I would make it as a transgender woman I did. I finally was right when I bet on myself.

 

 

 

 

 

Here Comes Tomorrow

 

My wife Liz, anniversary image.

Liz and I’s wedding anniversary was yesterday, and of course we had to go out and celebrate the event. It is actually our third anniversary after being together well over a decade.

Over the time I have written this blog, I hope I have not been short on trying to relay what my wife Liz has done for me. So much, as a matter of fact, she kicked me totally out of my closet, and showed me tomorrow was here. I could live a life as a transgender woman, finally free from my old male self. She was the direct opposite from my second wife who kept telling me there was no way she wanted to live with another woman. Liz told me she saw no male in me at all, and the rush was on to complete my male to female transition.

By the time all of this happened, and my second wife passed away, I was well into my sixties and had given up any hope of ever finding another serious relationship. Preferably with another woman who would accept me. As I always point out, to combat my severe loneliness, I was working the bar scene and even tried online dating which turned out to be a joke…until I met Liz. Or she met me. She responded to a “woman seeking woman” ad I put on a dating site and as luck would have it, she lived relatively close to me in Cincinnati. At the time she commented on the picture I used, saying I had sad eyes. Which I did, seeing as how I was going through the toughest time of my life. I had just lost my wife of twenty-five years as well as nearly all of the close friends I had to death as well as losing my business. I was grasping at any straw I could to stay afloat, sad eyes or not.

The only main straw I had was my sudden dependence on my strong inner feminine self. In a time of darkness, when my male self-had deserted me, she stepped up to provide the comfort and strength to move on. It was up to her to carve out a new life with new friends who had no previous contact at all with my old male self. Against all odds, in a sometimes-hostile world, she managed to do it, and my life slowly began to improve. With all the help and attention, I was receiving from my new ciswomen friends, I did not have to even give much of a second thought to the men who were afraid to approach me or just wanted to treat me as some sort of a fetish object. With my base sexuality settled again, it made it easier to feel secure in myself and move on with my male to female transition. Often it seemed my life was coming full circle and Liz was a major part of it.

During our anniversary dinner last night, we were fortunate that the venue was very empty without even the usual screaming kids so we could reminisce about our past and dream about the future. And of course, Liz took all the credit (as she always does) for reaching out to me first as a “woman seeking woman” post was an exceedingly rare response coming from any other women in those days. Plus, I was not shy in pointing out I was a transgender woman made my odds even more remote. If I received any responses at all, I felt like I had won the lottery of dating as a trans woman.

Because of Liz, I won the lottery for all the reasons I went into and more importantly, my gender transition which was always tomorrow became today. It was time to give away my remaining male clothes and follow Liz’s instructions on following my heart. A heart, it turned out, was feminine to start with and needed little to no encouragement to live. Regardless, when tomorrow finally came, it hit me hard and I needed time to adjust I really did not have. I needed to fall back on the decades of cross-dressing practice I had to feel more comfortable in the world. When I did, the joy of life I experienced was wonderful and even more so because I had someone special to share it with.

To be able to live the way I do still feels like a dream to me and Liz has helped me to realize my transfeminine dream more than anybody else ever did in my previous life.

Happy anniversary Liz and may we be able to celebrate many more together. And, thanks to all of you who have joined me in my journey. If you have not reached your tomorrow yet, keep trying. I am living proof it can still happen.

 

Home at Last

 

JJ Hart on left with wife Liz on right.

I know I start out too many posts with reference to exploring my mom’s clothes and makeup when I was very young, but I did. Even though I was caught in the thrill of the moment, I knew quickly that a couple things would be happening. The first of which was, I knew deep down I would not be escaping the urge I had to dress in girl’s clothes anytime soon. And the second of which was, I knew somehow, I wanted to do more than look like a girl and parade in front of a mirror, I wanted to experience the world girls around me lived in

All of this created severe stress and tension as I tried to internalize my thoughts. I daydreamed during any spare moment I had trying to figure out how I could live out my feminine dreams. I will forever wonder about how much quality life I lost when I was in another gender dimension. In fact, my daydreaming took me way into the years of my military service when I was able to take a spare moment and dream about living as I pleased as a transgender woman after I was discharged from military service. My biggest dream was to show off my new beautiful appearance in a new car in front of my former fiancé who rejected me when I came out to her. Just when I needed her the most. I can’t say any of that ever happened except in the dreams I kept alive in my mind.

Little did I know I was stuck on an extended trip as I was making my way back home. At that point, I had made it from my mom’s clothes, all the way to having a collection of feminine belongings I could take with me when I traveled, just in case I had the opportunity to make one of my rare public outings as a novice transgender woman. Home seemed as if it was a long way away.

I struggled to with the idea of giving up all together with being a male as I was building successes in a male world, regardless of myself. Every time I would have success in the world as a transfeminine person, my male self would come along and try to destroy her. It was frustrating and hard on my mental health to say the least and home at times looked so far away in the distance.

Another problem I had was I did not know where my true home was, and I went on several frantic searches to locate it. As I started to change jobs and move my family to different locations, I still could not find myself. I moved my wife all the way to the metro New York City area from Ohio, all the way back to very rural Ohio along the Ohio River to chase my tail. To no avail, I was attempting to chase a dream which in reality was so close to me. I could not see the forest for the trees. She was standing tall and proud in front of me the whole time.

Plus, I did not realize I never had the choice to live in the gender I preferred at all. Had I taken the time to really think about who I was and face the fact that I should have been a woman all along, it would have saved me so much turmoil in my life. It took me finally finding my gender home to do it. It all seems so simple to me now that I sometimes am ashamed to admit it. I was simply the same as so many other ciswomen in the world, I would have to face the same obstacles as they did, plus then some since I was transgender, I needed to be better. I would have to face tougher obstacles in being accepted for employment, education and other issues. But I knew all of that coming home, so I was ready.

Arriving home was such a relief when I finally arrived. The gender battle I always faced was done and my mental health improved. All the nights out when I was alone as a trans woman came back to help me because of all the lessons I needed to learn as I pursued my own womanhood.

Giving up on any idea of ever living as a man again freed up my inner woman to proudly show off the home she had built over the years. It was a long wait for her, around fifty to be exact, but she made it home.

 

 

 

Pause and Reflect

 

Image from UnSplash.

Yesterday, as I waited for the doctor to see me, I had a chance to pause and reflect on my long gender journey so far.

In doing so, I had the opportunity to think about how scared I was in the early days of going to the doctor as well as other things. Naturally, I discovered some other things I was trying in the new world I was in, totally over my head at times. On occasion, I don’t think I point out enough how little I had to work with when I started my male to female gender journey. I was from a very male dominated family so there were no understanding moms or sisters to help me. In addition, my body was very testosterone poisoned which meant I had no effeminate body parts to work with, except my legs which I received several compliments on at various Halloween parties I went to as a woman. While I was flattered by the attention, I rapidly became more paranoid. I began to take compliments on my legs by thinking the people left out the part that I had on my legs as I had good legs as a man dressed as a woman.

As I reflect on those confusing days, I wondered how I had continued to persist as well as I did. I guess the reason was because what I was considering doing felt so natural even though it was so scary to me. I spent hours and hours pausing my life and reflecting on where I wanted to go. Too many hours, to be exact as I needed to be careful, I was missing out on my regular life as a man. Even though I did not worry about losing my male life the way it was. I wanted him to go away, but I needed to make sure I did it right. In doing so, I was selfish. I wanted to keep some of my male privilege and transition at the same time. All I did was hurt myself and those around me in the short and long term.

In the short term, I knew had problems dressing my body as a woman. I had the overweight thick torso and broad shoulders to worry about which would not go away no matter how much I attempted to display my legs. I was doomed to failure by wearing too many short miniskirts. My male ego was working overtime, and it cost me many embarrassing moments in the public’s eye before I finally learned my lesson and learned to blend with the percentage of the world I really needed to deal with, which were the other women. It is like the other women I dealt with at the VA yesterday, I made sure I thanked all of them for being there, and they really appreciated it and treated me better. In the past, I would have been too shy to do such a thing.

As I continued to reflect on my past evolution of my transfeminine person, I remembered again how self-conscious I was on my early visits to the VA clinics I went to for care. I was so afraid of being stared at, all the way to being laughed at. Which I never actually was. It took me several years of progress to overcome where I was in life. It took me the visits I made to the venues I went to when I left the gay bar scene I was involved with and moved on after I was tired of being mistaken for a drag queen. Which I had nothing against, but it just wasn’t me.

At this point, I was wondering exactly what to do. Some I have talked to mentioned the “courage” word with me when I thought of going out in the world. On the other hand, I thought pursuing a transgender life was in many ways, my destiny I had been working on for decades. As I reflected, I thought how right I was. From the mirror to the world, I had carefully followed my path and just had to keep doing it. Or, instead of courage, I would never forgive myself if I had never tried to try out living my dream. Especially when I had proved to myself that I could do it. I had a giant inferiority complex concerning my entire life as a trans woman which I had to conquer.

By this time, my doctor was ready to see me, and I needed to return to the reality of today’s world. At the advanced age of seventy-six, I view each annual exam as very important of course. Even though it was invading my time to pause and reflect.

 

Off to see The Wizard or Doctor

Today will be a relatively short post because today is the day for my annual trip to see my primary physician at the Cincinnati Veterans Administration and I have to be there soon.

Actually, for this visit, I am going to a satellite location not far from where I live. In many ways, the time I have been going to that location reflects a change in how that clinic treats transgender patients. When I first started to go there years ago, I was met with a very chilly reception. Even to the point of being ignored by one rude receptionist and one temporary doctor who I had a virtual (online) visit with. He rudely said “what’s wrong with you” after he saw me. Obviously, not the reception I was looking forward to.

Happily, that was the last time I had to deal with him and the next time I went, I was greeted by a new pleasant, female primary provider (which I think is similar to a general practitioner in the civilian world.) The best part was, she had some sort of working knowledge of what it meant to have a transgender patient. So, I did not have to educate her.

Providers turn over quickly at the VA, so I hope she is still there when I go this morning because I have several important personal health care issues to discuss. Such as getting a mammogram, settling up an eye care appointment, and most pleasant of all…is it time for a colonoscopy. I am getting a flu shot this morning, but due to the interference by our “dear leader”, so far Covid shots are not available. To people of any age. Which is important to me because I spent three days in a hospital last winter with Covid. My wife Liz and I are going on vacation about the same time as last year in January and I would really like the added protection of a vaccine before that time rolls around.

For my visit, I always try to dress light casual for my VA appointments. It is also important to wear short sleeves in case she wants blood work done. It has been a year, so I imagine she will want it done today. I  am  lucky that I have never had any problems giving blood to the “vampires”.

One way, or another, I always hope I am treated with respect which I have been on my recent VA visits.

If anything, else happens, I will let you know because I know, health care varies radically between the VA medical centers. Especially with the mandated cutbacks led by you know who. Whose motto is “If it ain’t broke, break it.”

Down the Transgender Rabbit Hole

Going down the transgender rabbit hole was difficult for me.

The hole I chose was very dark, and full of dead-end passages before I ever had the chance to see any daylight. As I pursued my long-term dream of living as a woman, I needed to go through quite a few serious changes. In my rabbit hole, there was very little to no help. Especially, any guidance initially from other girls or women around me. It took me years to quit being a victim of my gender issues and make them an opportunity, as I scrambled around my rabbit hole to make it more comfortable.

Of course, it never became more comfortable, and exactly the opposite was true. The further down I dug, the darker my life became. Out of desperation, I searched for my gender daylight. Way past the annual Halloween parties I was going to dressed completely as a woman. Once a year in the public’s eye just wasn’t going to make it for me anymore. I needed other outlets to test how I was doing as a transgender woman. Novice or not. When I was out for the longest time, I felt like the rabbit which was being circled by a hawk. I was so unsure in my new high heels, I could not have run if I had wanted to. I was forced to stay and get abused early on.

I guess I was lucky that my abuse was relatively mild in nature as compared to what it could have been. I was just stared at and laughed at for the most part, until I learned to blend in with the ciswoman world at large. As I did though, I was sent flying down my transgender rabbit hole in tears as my progress was slow. At that point, two things happened. The first was, my hole became my gender safe place where no one could reach me. I was always the pretty girl I wanted to be. The other was the unforgettable sensation of why I was attempting such a crazy journey to start with. I was fairly successful in the male life I never really asked for, so why rock the boat and risk drowning.

Another important lesson I learned was my perception of a woman's life was all wrong. It was like I was watching a slide show on the walls of my rabbit hole when I viewed women. It was not until I tested the daylight of the world, did I realize the truth of what I was about to face. The most important truth I learned was how completely women interacted with men in the world and how innately strong they were. I wondered how and when I could ever fit in as a transfeminine person. I found the only way to learn was to do it and see if I would ever be let in to play in the girls’ sandbox.

To finally make my way into the sandbox, I needed to extend my rabbit hole even farther than I ever had imagined. Since I was always inherently shy, learning to look another woman in the eye and communicate with her was always so difficult for me. It took me years to have the confidence to believe in myself and do it. The most frustrating part was when I thought I had my new life all together, something else would come along to destroy my dream. My rabbit hole had collapsed and needed to be rebuilt. Once I accepted the new challenge of transgender womanhood, I moved on and rebuilt my rabbit hole larger and stronger than ever before.

As transgender women and trans men, we all have our rabbit holes to negotiate. Some are similar, some are not but along the way, we all end up giving away something that is precious to us. Sadly too, some of us discovered our rabbit hole was too deep or built so poorly we had to turn back. I’m referring to the so-called “detransitioners” who the gender bigots and TERFS love to use us as an example of failure in the transgender community. I believe the number of people in the community is much lower than the bigots like to point out, so it doesn’t really matter that much to those of us who have carved out a new life when we left our rabbit holes and carved out a new life.

Sure, it was never easy doing all that work, but in the end, it was so worth it to achieve a dream and stay out of the old hole I had built myself forever.