The Good Old Days?

On a Good Adventure in 
Columbus from the Jessie
Hart Archives 

As a transgender woman of a few years, I have a tendency to look back at my life. When I do, often the positive memories out number the negative ones. Of course I remember the benefits of being younger and potentially more attractive.  I had substantially fewer wrinkles as we all do when we are younger but on the negative side, I had more and darker beard growth.  These days I can get away for the occasional close shave every couple of days with no electrolysis ever. 

Then there were all the other days when I seemingly wanted to force my way out of my closet by making very bad fashion choices and ended up being ridiculed by a discerning public. For years I was sure all the public was just looking at me. Heading home extremely depressed to the point of crying most certainly were not the good old days. As with anything else in life, I needed to learn the hard way on how to properly face the public as a feminine transgender woman before I could experience the days I remember so fondly now.

Ironically, so many of my so called positive experiences were more adventures than anything else. Since I was always under a self imposed curfew to be home and undressed before my wife arrived back from her job, I seemed some nights I was literally counting the minutes. Those were the early nights when I was approached by several different lesbians in a small venue I went to often. Perhaps on those adventures I did too good of a job projecting myself as a "lipstick" lesbian where I went with my tight jeans, boots and long blond hair. On the other hand, the more likely possibility was the other women knew what they were getting into and were just considering some experimentation. In those days my old male ego was still with me completely and I was very vain about how I looked as a woman. 

Another reason I had adventures was I put myself into situations where I could find them. I actively sought out venues where the possibility of being harassed ran high, just to see if I could get by. Those were the evenings I had the cops called on me all the way to being asked to leave one venue. Plus the worst night I can ever remember was when another woman verbally assaulted me in the women's restroom by calling me a pervert. Definitely not the good old days. Destiny was kind to me though. Normally when I was at my lowest point mentally with my long drawn out gender transition something came along to encourage me. I would use the term "gender euphoria" but I think all of this occurred well before the term was invented. What was really happening was I was beginning to learn the basics of gender survival I would need to survive a very rocky journey. I needed to learn the hard way being a woman was so much more than appearance. How I walked the walk and talked the talk became so much more important to me. Of course I still wanted to look my best and I kept my weight down as well as keeping my skin as feminine as possible. I began to look at shaving as the ultimate defoliator. 

All we can ask for in life is to get an even break. Even though the good old days may not have been that good, I was fortunate in that I was able to learn from them and survive.     

Transgender Inclusion

 

My Fave Girls. Liz on left, daughter on right
from the Jessie Hart Archives 

I actually survived my second "Seder" Jewish ritual service and dinner in fairly good shape. The one my wife Liz and I were invited to last year proved to be very uncomfortable due to my back's reactions to very uncomfortable chairs. This year I was greeted by my son in law to my own comfortable chair which ended up fitting perfectly with the table we ate at. I was so relieved. 

I also was happy my trans grandchild was the "moderator" and led the lengthy service which was partly in Jewish. Since lately I seem to struggle with English, speaking nay Jewish was certainly out of my reach. 

It turned out,  my grandchild who is re-enrolling in The Ohio State University this Spring seems to be coming out of their shell quite a bit and was there with their partner, whose name I promptly screwed up when we arrived. So much for making a good second impression. Which has been normally the story of my life. Open mouth, insert foot. 

Being included so totally in their rituals of the Jewish Faith has always been amazing to me. In fact, years ago at my oldest grandson's Bar Mitzfah  I was asked to get up in front of many people in his temple and have a part in the service. I was still early into my Mtf gender transition and was petrified but was able to come through it all unscathed.  I am not a real expert but the Jewish Temple my daughter and family belong to are Reform Jews and not the stricter Orthodox Jews which is possibly why I was welcomed and included with open arms.

For the day, as I wrote about briefly yesterday, since I was never allowed to even think about wearing a pretty, bight colored dress like the girls and women were allowed to wear,  I resorted to wearing my own bright colored clothes. What I attempted to do was wear as much as I could of the clothes and accessories my wife Liz has made for me over the years. She knitted me a pink and blue sleeveless sweater vest which I wore over a white camisole top and my bright patterned leggings. Then I added the earrings and hand beaded trans hair beret she made me. As I said yesterday, she is very talented and has her own shops on the Etsy craft platform under "Liz T Deigns" if you would like to visit it. 

Outside of being able to wear what I wanted to relieve myself of past anxieties, the best time I had was when my transgender grandchild made a special effort to sit down with Liz and I and discuss their advanced Physic's course she was taking soon at OSU when classes resume. They (chosen pronouns) most certainly didn't  get any of my genetics from me in the math or science area's of academia. I can barely add or subtract on a good day. I wish I could say I understood all they were talking about but I didn't. I was better suited in understanding the history behind the "Seder" ritual and how in it's own way intersects with all the problems going on today in the Middle East. 

 As I thought of all of sadness in the world and discrimination against the transgender population, my fondest hope is I can leave some sort of a legacy on how you can lead a successful life as a trans person. Being included in such an inviting ritual such as a "Seder" was a start.

It's Easter Weekend

 

Hand Beaded Trans Beret from
LizT Designs on Etsy

This weekend features the special observance days of several major religions around the world. As I was raised in a semi-serious religious home, we didn't do much for the Easter Christian religious observance. Of course I remember quite vividly how much I disliked  dressing up in the male restricting clothes such as a tie which I hated so much. I would have rather worn one of the pretty bright colored dresses all the girls my age were able to wear. At the time, the earth seemed to be tilted unfairly in the girls direction. 

Today, in a sense, I get just a bit of revenge on my past. My wife and I are attending a Jewish observance that we were invited to at my daughter's mother in law's house. Appetizers will be served before the formal observance which was well attended last year by mostly friends of my two out of three grandkids. Unfortunately, my grandchild who is transgender probably won't be there today because they live with their partner in Virginia which is quite the trip from Ohio. 

For the day, I have decided to brighten my wardrobe up for the Spring weather we are finally now beginning to see. I am wearing a sleeveless very light sweater top Liz handmade for me paired with my patterned bright colored leggings. I even went all out and put in my long unused earrings which again Liz made for me. Plus to spotlight my transgender status in this time of uncertainty, I am wearing the trans hand beaded hair beret which again was made by Liz. If you are catching a theme right now, you are right. Liz is very talented. 

So, in my own way to get even with the mean old days when I wasn't allowed to wear anything bright colored to Easter observations. I am going light and bright.  The only drawback is if I am going to be warm enough. I have decided to throw caution to the wind and wear my bright sleeveless outfit to the Jewish observation of "Seder". While I am not Jewish, my daughter is and it will be good to see her. 

Whatever what religion you may happen to have an Easter observance with this weekend, I hope you have a good one. 

Which Closet was It?

Restroom Photo from the
Jessie Hart 
Collection

 Is your perception of the gender closet you lived in (or live in) masculine or feminine?  Until I really began to think about it, I always thought my closet was built by my false masculine self to keep my stronger feminine inner being well hidden. I'm sure most of you faced the same problems as your old male became very proficient at laying new bricks in your closet as fast as your girl was trying to find ways to escape.

Because my girl self was the one in the closet, I considered it a feminine enclosure. I even went as far as remodeled a room in the house we were restoring as my makeover room. As I remember, I painted it a pastel shade, bought a used vanity and mirror and then decorated the walls with vintage pictures of beautiful film stars such as Marilyn Monroe. For some reason which will now be never known, my deceased wife went along with my idea of having a room my girl could call her own. Maybe she thought giving in and letting me decorate my own room would help alleviate my gender stress for awhile by allowing me to express myself.

The problem became was when (of course) just having a room for my clothes and makeup just wasn't enough.  No matter how nice it was, my new closet could not replace the allure of getting out in the world and finding out if I could exist in the world as a transgender woman. For the longest time I was able to stay in and interact with my wife or the mirror before I could stand it no longer and had to open the door of my cage and see the world for the first time. All went well when we set up new boundaries for awhile when we got together and decided once a week I was allowed to go out, rent a motel room out of town and dress as a woman. From there I could go out and explore my new exciting world. Sadly, for the sake of our relationship, none of what I was doing really helped. The more I was out of my feminine closet, the more I wanted to do. Essentially,  I was beginning to live my lifetime dream. The process felt so natural I never wanted to go back and rebuild a male closet to live in. 

In a very short span of time due to my new expanding life, my old life became shambles when I started to seize every opportunity I had to dress up and head out the door. What I was doing was breaking our agreement in regards to my gender expression and putting extra unwanted strain on our relationship. However, the more I was able to spend time out of my old male closet, the ripping and tearing of my overall life became unbearable.  In other words, the more I tried to live a portion of my life in each of the two main gender binaries all the time  the worse life became. Which eventually led me to a suicide attempt. It turned out to be just the latest in a string of incredibly self destructive events I attempted before her death from a sudden heart attack. 

I was so fortunate I was able to have a happy ending of sorts when I finally was able to escape all the negativity as well as my gender closet. In the end, it didn't matter if my cage was masculine or feminine. Only that I was able to escape all the problems which came from within the closet and live my truth as a full time transgender woman. 

All the Gender Baggage

Image from UnSplash

 Sometimes I feel just like "Paris Hilton" in a recent hotel commercial when she had to reserve an adjoining room for all of her extra baggage. Completing a male to female gender transition often produces just as much baggage we accumulate from a life time of experiences.

Often, the older we are the more baggage we have to account for. In order to hide our feminine instincts and try our best to live as a male, we had to resort to extra ordinary measures to protect ourselves from bullies and bigots in the society around us. By doing so, our baggage became immediately very bulky and/or heavy. The problem was compounded by adding spouses, family and employment as we went on to live our lives. Before we knew it, we needed an extra room (similar to Paris Hilton) to keep and hide our baggage.  The problem becomes, when we finally decide to change our outward gender, what are we going to do with the male person who helped me to get to the transition point.  

In my case, my baggage involved having a wonderful daughter I didn't know would accept the authentic  new me, a very successful job and a loving wife of twenty five years to deal with among other things. To make matters worse, I knew my job would not accept me transitioning along with my wife who said our marriage would be over. She didn't sign up to be with a woman.  What happened to me was my daughter accepted me when I came out as transgender to her, I left my job to start my own restaurant and my wife sadly passed away. I guess you could say destiny opened the doors to put my major baggage issues aside and move towards living my impossible dream of living as a full time transgender woman. The closer my gender transition came to reality, the more baggage I discovered which needed to be considered and taken care of.

The more I was able to live my new exciting feminine life, the more baggage I found which needed to be considered, added on to my life or just discarded of. My biggest piece of  extra baggage I needed to deal with was my love of sports. Over the span of my life I had used my love of sports to drive a wedge between me and any possible bullies. I tried along the way to play football and became a fan of the sport as well as having a passing interest in baseball and basketball. I found out quite early in my life transition, I would have a difficult time bringing my interest in sports with me. It took me several ill fated attempts at enjoying myself in male gay venues to get the idea I was going at my problem all wrong. To be accepted as a sports fan all over again, I needed to go where there were other possible woman sports fans. In other words, big sports bars with many televisions and large cold draft beers. Not exactly the environment I envisioned myself in during my formative gender years but on the other hand the whole experience felt natural and I had solved one of my huge gender baggage issues. Very soon I was accepted as a regular patron in several popular venues and I was able to enjoy myself.

The other big issue I needed to deal with was my sexuality. Since I had never been really sexually attracted to any other man, I wondered what would happen to me as a new transgender woman. The answer didn't come long in being answered when I did briefly date men and still didn't have much of a spark except when I had the luxury of being on the arm of a man and enjoying the ease of acceptance I received in public from society.  Looking back, none of the lack of real acceptance from men mattered because my acceptance from cis-women soon dominated my life. I never had to worry about my sexuality changing because it didn't. 

In any other items of interest I had when I was desperately trying to live as a man were left behind. All the experience I had gained restoring an old house was a prime example. I became decidedly unhandy around the house. 

Once I had decided which baggage I was keeping and which I wasn't, life became full again and I could concentrate on building a new life by writing more and enjoying myself.  

It Takes a Village

In My Messy 
Gender Closet from
the Jessie Hart
Collection.

Even the most secure transgender person (woman or man) would probably admit transitioning was never easy. Some would admit to having transitional help while some transgender individuals had very little assistance. In my case it took a village after a certain point. By that I mean I spent my formative transvestite years very alone to experiment with my mirror.  Every time I was able to afford a new piece of feminine clothing and/or makeup, I was certain I was the prettiest girl in the room. Which was easy to do because I was the only person in the room to start with. I spent my life fearing going out in public but on the other hand wanting to so badly.

In many cases, what happened next in my transition was predictable. I learned the hard way the mirror wasn't my friend and when I finally faced the public. I write often about my poor fashion choices which led to abuse. Even with all the rejection I was facing, I still pushed forward on my own petrified of anyone close learning of my gender secrets. This continued into my days in the military when my appearance as a woman at a Halloween party led me to coming out as a transvestite to several close friends, including my first wife. Once I admitted to them my "costume" wasn't a fluke, it felt like a tremendous load had been removed from my shoulders and it was possible to begin to locate and build what would turn out to be my transgender village. Sadly, I wasn't able to seriously work on my village for years after that. I even attempted to come out of my closet to my Mom but she slammed the door shut.

It wasn't until I began to have success presenting as a woman did my village began to change. As it turned out I did not find the village as much as it found me. The more I ventured out into the public as my new feminine self, it seemed the more the public wanted to know about me if I went to the proper places. I started slowly when I started visiting certain clothing stores and malls on a regular basis. Very soon I grew tired of those places and needed a challenge to see if I could exist as a transgender woman in the world. That is when I began to stop places for a sit down lunch to interact with the staff. I was shocked how fast the public seemed to think I fit in and wanted to even communicate with me.  Communication with the public was something I had never considered because the mirror had never talked back to me. 

Amazingly to me, chances came along for me to build my new village fairly rapidly. I began to be invited to girls nights outs as well as being accepted into small  mixed gender groups in the venues I became a regular in. Looking back, I am sure I had the opportunity to easily stand  out in the crowd, even if it was only because I was bigger than most women. I found once I had reached this point of acceptance, I needed more help in building my village and I found it with the help of several cis-women I used to hang out with repeatedly. My formative gender days with all of them helped me to set the foundation to become the new woman I always dreamed of being. I can never say enough how much they all helped me when it came to me leaving my new village and venturing out. All of a sudden, my closet became a village and it was time to move on with all the help I found. I think my future wife Liz said it best to me when she said very few people have the chance to start over in life. It was my chance to make the best of it.

I did try to make the best of my new life by allowing my long suppressed feminine soul to take control and enjoy her chance to live. She definitely made the most of her chance to shine...with tons of help of my old village.  

Passing as a Woman out of Sheer Will

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart 
Collection

When you come right down to it, there are many ways to actually pass as a woman. Of course the first way is to attempt to try to know what feminine attributes you might have and go from there. Sadly the whole process entails more work than some are willing to spend time with. Others consider it a labor of love. 

When I first began my serious gender journey to live as my authentic self, I needed to discover without a doubt what my authentic self was all about.  All I really knew was that deep down inside I had never given up the idea I was a girl who was on her way to future womanhood...If I could figure out how do do it.  Seeing as how I possessed very few feminine attributes, my femininization process involved quite a bit of trial and even more error. If it wasn't for low cost thrift stores, I don't know what I would have been able to do. At those stores, I was able to buy low cost women's clothes to experiment with. The whole process took awhile but finally I began to understand the fashion basics I needed to over come my broad shoulders, no hips, and thick torso. I think now I had a one in five chance of finding a fashion accessory that made sense and helped me to work towards my goal of looking as good as I could. Through it all I kept thinking if a blouse, slacks or skirt was big enough to fit another woman, I could wear it also. 

Another major point I came up to encourage myself was, not all cis women passed as a woman either. I did my own research and came up with the idea a cis woman who may not have passing privilege makes it  in life because she makes the best of what nature gave her. Examples would be certain body parts (such as legs or breasts) which stand out all the way to a sparkling personality. At this point my thought processes changed. So what if I would never be the prettiest girl in the room, at the least I could still be the girl and be there. In many ways my new thoughts took the pressure off me striving to perfect my presentation and all of the sudden I was able to take better care of my skin and lose nearly fifty pounds on a diet. Through it all I had to tell myself I was doing the best I could with what I had to work with.  But, then again I still could fall back on all the lectures my parents gave me which said nothing was ever good enough and I could try harder.

During this part of my life, I was going through a period of immense gender discovery. For the first time ever I was going to new venues designed to test my boundaries as a new transgender woman. Most I was successful in, some I was not.  I ran the gamut from being totally accepted and even welcomed as a sign the venue was diverse in it's thinking all the way to being kicked out with the cops being called. Plus, it was during this time I was able to meet and establish friendships with a very supportive and fun group of people I could socialize with as I was desperately lonely. One of the group was another transgender woman who one night told me I passed out of sheer will power. Ironically I knew what she was saying and it took me back to the realization I had years ago. So what if I wasn't the prettiest woman in the room, I still was a woman and that was all which was important. 

These days, for years and years, I have left my old male self behind and have reached the point of having the confidence to live my gender truth full time. If someone has a problem with me, it is their problem not mine.  It most certainly took me long enough to get thereand I had support to do it but mostly my gift of sheer will power put me over the top. 

Power is Fleeting

 

Image Courtesy Markus Winkler
on UnSplash

Transitioning from male to female in the world is an very specific way to understand the basics of gender power. By power I mean gender privilege. I know it didn't take long for me to experience the loss of my male privilege's.  

First of all, learning to present as well as possible as a woman was sort of a double edged sword. Of course being able to get out of my closet and live feminine was a new, exciting yet scary experience. And, being able to be accepted as a woman in a group of men taught me several immediate lessons. One night, somehow, I don't remember why or how I became part of a conversation between myself and three other men. Immediately and predictably I was ignored and my opinions discounted simply because I was there to start with and feminine in looks. I thought at the time, so this was how my life was going to change more dramatically than I thought when I began to feel comfortable as a transgender woman in public. Then, there were the times I was approached because I was transgender and appealed to a certain kind of man. Sadly, many times I faced only fitting into a sexual adventure with them and nothing else which never appealed to me. 

I think overall these days many men are panicked about being men in the classic sense.  Perhaps it is part of the reason an overwhelmingly amount of old white men are attempting to erase any or all of the very few transgender rights. Down deep these men are threatened by strong women and trans women by nature are the strongest of all. Because we had to be to survive. All along as we transitioned, educational and employment opportunities became very rare. Plus these were a few new of the gender lessons we had to learn made us a tribe full of survivors.  As I said, I learned my lesson early when I gave up my hard earned male privileges to live as a second class gender citizen in the mind of many men. I was fortunate in that I experienced being "taken in" by understanding women who told me welcome to their world when I was "mansplained" by a man. 

Also, it is no secret cis men are by nature more insecure sexually than women.  Their insecurities could be why the death toll among transgender women tragically continues to rise year after year. Too many men are attracted to trans women then their insecurities step in and they become violent. Of course far too many cis-women have to deal with violent men who think their only real power over women comes from their physical ability to over power them. The men know deep down the women are intellectually and emotionally stronger. In other words, they can survive on so many levels without a man.

I also think the gender political bigots are scared to death of the younger generation who, for the most part is more liberal and gender blind than their parents. The same parents who are quibbling over drag shows instead of the real issues which threaten our society. As the bigots strive to hold on to their power which is slipping away, they don't realize transgender people have always existed and always will. No matter the obstacles which are thrown in our way. 

Even though my overall dealings with men as a transgender woman have been few and far between, I still remember the early days of losing my male privilege's. Some were down right shocking (safely) while others were more mellow (communication) but all of them proved to me how gender power can be fleeting.   

Plan B

Image Courtesy 
Jessie Hart
Collection

On occasion I think my writings here on the blog make it seem as if I had too many good times and too few mentions of the dark moments I experienced.  The truth of the matter was I experienced many, many dark days when I desperately needed a "Plan B" to get by. 

In addition to desperately hiding my secret wardrobe of feminine items, I needed to figure a way to work with my collection to practice the only way I knew being a girl. All my sneaking around led me to many close calls with my slightly younger brother and my parents who unexpectedly came home early. The only positive which came from those experiences was I learned the process well of quickly removing makeup. The thought of being caught was always on my mind and often ruined the whole experience. At the time, the only ultimate "Plan B" I could ever consider was a purge of all my girl clothes and accessories and go back to the very unsavory idea of being in a male life fulltime.

Even though I managed to go through very few purges in my life, I did put myself in other various potentially devastating situations. The earliest I write about often. Those were the nights of severe fashion mistakes which  led me to scurry back to my home through teary eyes from strangers laughing or staring at me. At that point "Plan B" amounted to going back to the drawing board many times before common fashion sense kicked in. I needed to style myself to present well and then blend in with the community at large. Even though I was finally learning how to conduct myself, I found there were many other ways to prove I needed a "Plan B" to get by. Perhaps one of most embarrassing moments I went through since one of my heels became stuck in a sidewalk crack and I nearly broke an ankle was when one of the water balloons I was using as a breast form exploded in a popular sports bar I was a regular in. Back in those days I couldn't afford good silicone forms so I made the ill fated decision to fill balloons with warm water because I thought the feel approximated having real breasts.  I know you are thinking now. how did that work out for you?

How it worked out was one night I made one hell of a mess on the floor on the way to the bathroom. Luckily no one else was around and I was able to pay and leave before anyone else attributed the mess to me. I thought at the time the best excuse I could have come up with was I was pregnant and my water just broke. Other times I wasn't so lucky with being alone when I needed a "Plan B." There was the time I was wearing my new high heeled boots to my regular venue on a snowy night. After a drink or two I got up to go to the rest room and promptly slipped and fell on a wet floor under my bar stool. The bar was packed and I was very embarrassed needless to say. After I got back up, I reassured everyone I was alright and finished my restroom trip and then left. With a new found respect of dealing with wet floors in my new boots. I made it home without any further problems. 

As I remember now, most of my other embarrassments were relatively minor and I was able to learn from each one. Such as carrying extra toilet paper and/or an extra tampon in my purse. This all came because of other women surprising me with questions in restrooms mainly when their stall ran out of toilet paper or they needed an emergency feminine hygiene product. 

The moral to the story is my "Plan B" was a huge learning experience and a necessary evil, as I pursued  my path to achieving my desire to live as a full time transgender woman.  I really made many mistakes. 

Pleasing Your Parents as a Transgender Woman

 

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Collection

Growing up it was extremely difficult to please my WWII era/Great Depression generation parents. It seemed to me whatever I did well, they always thought I could do it better. I am fond of saying they were long on being great providers but extremely short on providing any sort of emotional support.  As you can guess, or possibly went through, the whole parental process was complicated by gender issues. Especially when a well meaning adult would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Even back then, I knew the true answer and I also knew I couldn't tell anyone. The main thing I wanted to do was to grow into a woman. With the complete lack of outside interaction with anyone who may have felt the same, I felt completely alone in the world. My gender closet was very dark and lonely.

In the meantime, life went on and my parents made it very clear what they expected of me as I grew up.  Short term they expected me to attend some sort of at least a mid level prestigious university and/or college. In no way did they ever let on they knew anything at all about my desire to change my gender. I always thought my Mom just had to know I was exploring with her clothes and makeup but never said anything. Until I finally came out to her after I was honorably discharged from the Army, we never discussed me being a transvestite (as it was called then) and I found I shouldn't have discussed  my needs then.  She only volunteered drastic psychological interference in my life. We never discussed my primary issue again.

As my life progressed, I did my best to seek the approval from my parents as a faux man. I worked hard at my two careers, had a child and even completed my military duty. In the meantime I tried to duplicate my Dad's success in building his own house by restoring an 1860's era house of my own. Through it all, two things sadly happened. The first of which was I never heard the words they were proud of me and secondly my desire to be a woman never went away. In fact, the desire just became stronger the older I became. To make matters worse, the more successful I thought I had become in my parents eyes made my desire to transition to a full time transgender woman  even more complex. I had a successful job and a loving marriage at stake if I attempted any radical changes to my life. The whole process caused me to push many people away from me which resulted in having fewer and fewer close friends.

I seriously doubt if I pleased my parents. I was just stubborn enough or selfish enough in some eyes to please myself.  My parents passed on without ever having an impact on my gender issues, so they became a non factor. I was fortunate in that my most important immediate family accepted the true me and the rest who didn't just didn't matter. Plus I was able to locate a whole new set of friends who again accepted the new me without ever knowing my old male self. 

A part of me wants to think all my parents really wanted for me was to have a happy life. Which is what I hope for my daughter and grandchildren. Perhaps being a part of their so called "greatest generation" precluded me ever achieving my goal of pleasing them. Just like being transgender, the deck of life was stacked against me.  I just had to overcome it. 

A Day at the Salon

 

From the 
Jessie Hart 
Collection:
My first Salon
Visit.

My first visit to an all woman beauty salon was an unforgettable experience. It happened shortly after I transitioned into a fulltime feminine life when I decided I was transgender. At first, when I came out to her, she responded overwhelmingly positively and volunteered to take me out shopping. Seeing as how my wardrobe wasn't in too bad of a shape, I politely turned her down.

As it turned out, my birthday wasn't too far in the future and my daughter made me an offer I couldn't refuse. She asked if she could make me an appointment to her upscale hair salon for a cut and color of my hair which thankfully was reaching the length to actually do it. It became the best birthday present I ever received except when she was born. Which happened exactly a month before my birthday. So I accepted the gift not fully realizing what I was getting myself into.

As the day of my appointment approached, I rapidly became more terrified of the unknown which awaited me. I was so new to the opportunity coming up, I wondered what I would even ask for as far as a style when I arrived at the salon. It turned out I didn't have anything to worry about other than containing my fear. When I arrived, my daughter was waiting for me to guide me through the process which both embarrassed me but at the same time relived me because I had at least one friendly face to fall back on if I needed it.

I found most of my fears would unfounded because everyone, starting with the receptionist was very nice and even asked if she could help me to a glass of wine or coffee. I wanted to say, just leave me the bottle of wine but settled for a cup of coffee. As I nervously sipped my coffee my daughter arrived  and I found it was time for me to walk the "gauntlet". In other words, the salon seemed to be a huge line of stylists and chairs which reached out to the front door. In order to meet my stylist I would have to walk clear down the aisle of other women in chairs who had nothing better to do than stare at me. To say I was uneasy was an understatement. Once I was seated I began to relax and enjoy what would become one of the most unique experiences of my gender life up to that point. It turned out I had plenty of input into the color and style of my new hair. Since I had always admired red heads, I decided on a reddish streaked coloring with very little of my hair length taken off. 

Before I knew it, my hair was full of aluminum foil and my body was reacting to an overdose of estrogen in the room. Once I fully settled down, I felt I had as much of a reason as any other woman to be there.  Immediately I knew why cis women spend so much time and money on their hair in salons. It was truly a feminine reinvigorating experience. I felt bad about all the times in my male days when I didn't notice my wives' hair following their salon visits. Once I had gone through the hair pampering the first time, I couldn't wait to go back. The problem was affording it on my limited finances. In no way could I pay the bill my daughter gifted me on a regular basis. It wouldn't matter anyway because shortly I would be moving away from the area and in with Liz in Cincinnati. 

Once I settled in, it took me awhile to find another local stylist. Ironically I found her at one of my transgender-cross dresser support meetings I was going to.  The group brought in a stylist with a transgender son and I ended up making the first of many appointments. Sadly, she retired from the business not long ago and I have relied upon my wife Liz to trim my long hair. One thing for sure is, even though others continue to do a great job with my hair, nothing will ever match the wonderful first salon visit I experienced. As I said, I could have skipped a weekly dose of estrogen after going.

Why Trans People will Win

 These days as we transgender women and transgender men are under unpresented attacks from unresponsive bigoted politicians across the country, our future often seems dim. With all which is going on, what everyone against us doesn't realize is, we as individuals and as a community have been through this all before. An example would be how many of us grew up with no family support when we thought of attempting to express our authentic gender selves. We were "born" into our gender worlds with extreme problems on how to survive. As an example, I was born into a very male dominated family where any femininity on my part would have been dealt with drastically. I learned the hard way how to exist with no outlet to my gender needs. 

Equally as important was the fact I had little to no information from the world concerning others who may have felt the same way as I did. I didn't know how many ancient societies actually held transgender individuals in high esteem. Some to the point of worshiping them. In todays' western societies difference is bad and often gender is regarded as one of the most different personal differences a person can face. But face it we do and I use the "tunnel" example to explain why. Once we are able to finally take the steps to open our gender closets and explore, we are faced with looking down a long tunnel with a small light at the end. It takes all of us differing amounts of time to recognize the light at the end of the tunnel is not actually the train but actually an exciting new world.

Now we have the public knowledge and information to never go back into our gender closets. We as a transgender community are also realizing the time to put away petty differences is behind us because the bigots are coming after us. ALL of us, including cross dressers who comfortably (or not) stay hidden away in their closets. Many are now learning the chance to ever escape and live their truth may be taken away. The rejection of drag shows in states such as Tennessee could be just the start of going back to the 1950's and early 60's when merely being dressed in public as a member of the opposite sex could get you arrested. I was a pre teen during those times and remembering it happening where I lived near Dayton, Ohio. Something all cross dressers should think of. 

Another reason we will win is even though we as part of the LGBTQA community are taking the countries bigots best shot, we are becoming more organized than ever before. Even the rather conservative non political transgender-cross dresser support group I am part of came out in public against all the anti-transgender propaganda and legislation. It is very real to those of us who live in Cincinnati, Ohio just across the river from the Commonwealth of Kentucky which just over rode a veto by it's governor to pass a strict anti trans bill. 

What all the bigots don't realize is how hard we have worked and how much we have sacrificed to live as our authentic selves. We simply won't go back. The more we transgender people are out in public and into society the more people will understand what we are really about. It may take awhile but we still will win. 

Trans Reflexes

 

Cincinnati Skyline
From the Jessie Hart
Collection

Quite early during my transition I found myself needing to develop a whole new set of public reflexes to use when I was out in the world. No longer could I fall back on the tried and true old male actions I had crafted over the years to get by. Primary examples include having an interest in sports and owning muscle cars. Anything I could do to prove I was worthy of being called a male which of course, deep down, I always resisted. The benefit was I could participate in the many available male privileges such as job preference. The whole process was helpful in hiding my feminine tendencies and keeping the bullies away. 

Anytime I was faced with some sort of confrontation, I was able to "puff" myself up (since I was never really a small person) and fend off many possible disputes. It became my go to reflex which had to radically change when I began to live as my authentic feminine self. Nearly immediately I was shocked when I was naïve in thinking I would be accepted in man-centric conversations. No one cared about my amount of expertise or success at my job or my overall knowledge of the world. I quickly discovered the art of "mansplaining" and how it was an insult to all women. A prime example came when I needed to have my car towed one time and couldn't even be allowed to explain to the tow truck driver and the policeman where I lived. On the way back home in the truck, to make conversation I tried to play the dumb blond and ask questions about how the tow truck worked. It seemed to do the trick because shortly the driver started to comment about what his wife packed him for lunch. Who knows, maybe he thought I was trying to pick him up. 

Of course the biggest reflex I needed to change (and quickly) was when my personal security was threatened as a woman. Transgender or not. No longer could I rely on my size as a man to keep me out of possible danger. I went from the protector to needing the protection. I was cornered once in a hallway during a party I was attending with my second wife by a much larger man who was coming after me when he found me in a space where I couldn't escape. Luckily, my wife was there and ironically became my protector and he left me alone. I paid the price with her by hearing the lecture of being more careful. Still I didn't learn quickly. There was another night when I was stupidly walking alone between gay venues in downtown Dayton, Ohio. Two men approached me asking for money and all I had was a five dollar bill which satisfied them for the moment and I quickly left and made it to my car. From then on, I made sure I had friends walk me to my car when I went back there plus I made sure I took advantage of closer lighted parking. Security lessons learned. 

Following all of those immediate personal reflex changes, future reflex differences were easier to accommodate and learn from. As my communication skills improved, I was able to be more skilled at reading passive behavior skills from other women. Which helped me anticipate when some other woman was going to claw or knife my back. For the most part men left me alone so I didn't have to worry much about them. Which was ironic since my history with men should have given me more skills to deal with them but then again, I was mostly socializing with lesbians so I was insulated from men altogether. 

Through it all, my inner woman took her cue to live and ran with it. Seemingly, she made up for a lifetime in the closet in a few short years. It was almost as if she was waiting patiently for her time and quickly made the most of honing her reflexes quite quickly when it happened. 

  

Transgender Visibility versus Liberation

Image from Elyssa  Fahndrich
on UnSplash

 Recently I read a post from my statewide organization "Trans Ohio" which made the point Transgender Day of Visibility's  name should be changed to Day of Liberation. I thought what a great idea. Even though due to weather and mobility issues I did not attend the annual local TDOV event this past Saturday, I was there last year and several trans people are still stuck in my mind who were more liberated than just visible. 

Primarily, the one I remember the most was a young transgender girl. Probably around the age of fourteen who was there with her Mom. Seemingly she could not quite contain how proud she was to be in a safe space with many like minded individuals. I thought at the time how wonderful it must have been for her and her Mom to see all the supportive LGBTQA organizations who had set up there for the day. In the young girl's case, she was more liberated than just visible. The great thing was, she wasn't alone. There were many more in different age brackets attending too. 

The entire TDOV process took me back to the actual day when I decided to put away my male life for good and assume a feminine lifestyle. This included a personal pledge to myself to begin hormone replacement therapy to help me as much as possible femininize my exterior appearance to match my internal feelings. When I did it, I could not believe the amount of weight and stress which was lifted from my shoulders. In other words I was liberated and was coming home to an exciting and new transgender life. Not so different than the young trans girl I talked to at TDOV. From that point forward so many years ago, I started to wonder why I waited so long to do it. 

The main reason was my increasingly complex and pressurized male life kept getting into the way. Successes in my job, having a child and loving my wife all provided road blocks to me jumping off the gender transition cliff and liberating myself after living years in a dark closet. To make matters worse, once I thought I had liberated myself from my gender closet, I discovered I had only became visible in the world and the entire liberation process had a ways to go. Those were the terrifying yet exciting days of learning how to react to and communicate with the rest of the world. As this brand new person within me I thought I knew so well but didn't until I was able to liberate her. I guess you could say I was visible first and liberated second.

During the current wave of anti-LGBTQA and primarily transgender legislation from often crooked politicians it would be difficult to consider changing any of the regular annual trans events such as TDOV to Transgender Day of Liberation but it certainly does deserve a second thought.

Gender Enablers

From the Jessie Hart Collection
Jessie (left), Nikki (Center), Kim (Right)

 Perhaps you had a special person or persons who helped you to open your own gender closet and take tentative steps into the real world. Perhaps you did it all yourself. In my case, after a very rocky beginning, I was fortunate  to have had several enablers to help me along in my transgender journey. My rocky beginning started when I enlisted the help of my first fiancé. After much convincing and begging I somehow convinced her to help me dress head to toe as a woman. 

My initial introduction to having a cis-woman make me up and help me dress turned out to have mixed results. I learned my fiancé didn't really have that much more skill than I had when it came to the art of makeup. Most likely because by this time in my life I had literally years of practice on my own face. Quite frankly, I was a little disappointed by the entire experience. Again it was because I had been trying and trying any new fashion accessory I could afford to help my feminine presentation along. Outside of the temporary thrill of having another woman provide instant feedback to how I looked, the entire experience lacked much fun or relaxation for me. The big problem which came about was not so long after this, she would attempt to use my cross dressing desires against me. 

For some unknown reason, my fiancé had a real paranoia about me going away to serve my country in the military. All the way to telling me if I didn't get out of my draft status by telling the military I was gay, she would leave me. To make a long story short, I wouldn't compound one lie with another by telling the military I was gay. So just before I signed up for three years in the Army, I graduated college and we broke up. Even though the whole experience was very painful at the time, it turned out to be one of the best moves of my life and she certainly was not one of my gender enablers. 

From then on I resolved myself to telling any potential serious relationships I was involved with that I was a transvestite as cross dressers were known back in those days. The whole idea worked well with my first two wives. As it turned out, my first wife was so mellow with the whole idea I think she would have not been surprised if one day I told her I was going back to where I served in Thailand but this time for a sex change operation. I was very close to doing whatever I wanted gender wise until I met and fell madly in love with my second wife who I write about all the time because we were together twenty five years until she suddenly passed away. Ironically, she was a gender dis-abler because she became dead set against any idea of me being transgender and beginning hormone replacement therapy. Through it all, we managed to stay together and I tried to learn from all the "tough gender love" she gave me. If she knew it or not. For example, she was the first one to tell me being a woman was much more than just looking like one. After yet another huge fight we had.

Following her death when I was free to start HRT and begin to seriously explore the feminine world, I was so fortunate to have found several serious gender enablers who helped me find my way in the world as a transgender woman. I have mentioned several times in the past several cis women lesbian friends who taught me so much about finding myself as a transgender woman. To this day I don't think they ever realized what all they did for me as my gender enablers.

Around the same time, I met my current wife Liz. Without a doubt she became my best gender enabler when she told me eleven years ago she never saw me as being anything but a woman. More importantly she encouraged me to grow into the out and proud transgender woman I am today. Even though the journey was rough and filled with tough times, destiny showed me the way to what I should have always known was true. I was just cross dressing as a man and biding time until my true feminine self could emerge.    

Once I Started

 

From the Jessie Hart
Collection...The Ohio State
Student Union

I discovered quite early in life my gender identity was in flux. From the first time I felt the allure of feminine clothes to the first time I glanced at my girl self in the mirror, I knew I could never go back. In the classic feelings  of if I knew then what I knew now, I would have saved myself a ton of gender angst and unrest. Primarily I would have understood why the gender euphoria I experienced when I dressed as a girl was so fleeting. Before I knew it, I was back to my same old struggle to be everything male. I know now all of these feelings were the very beginnings of my desire to look more than like a girl. I wanted to be a girl. Long before the term was even invented I was transgender.

If I was wise enough to write down my deepest secret somewhere and hide it away, I am sure I would have told my future self to relax and enjoy the trip because in the end I would have no choice. No matter how hard he tried, my feminine self would in the end win and I would end up living full time as a transgender woman. Of course there was no possible way I could know all the twists and turns my gender journey would take me. My younger self would have known I would experience transitions in the middle of living in a major transition itself. My primary go to example is when I was living as a very serious cross dresser, I decided to transition again. This time to hormone replacement therapy and into a transgender life. There was no way my early self could predict what she was really asking for. She wanted me to uproot all the hard earned, unwanted gains I had achieved in the male world and finally realize they were all for not. Once I started I should have realized I should have fought harder to let my inner feminine self win and get on with living a better life. 

The major problem I would experience was all of the male gifts I experienced as I lived life as a guy. The biggest gift I experienced was the birth of my daughter who I love deeply to this day and she has been behind my transition since I told her tentatively years ago. I consider the whole experience as I said as the pinnacle of my life as most of the other so called accomplishments were rather shallow, such as success in my working world. 

My fondest hope I should have ever asked for was the wisdom of knowing my dominate gender was female in nature and even though trying to change it nearly killed me, I could never change who I truly was. The whole process was nearly miraculous in how a new wonderful feminine world was opened to me.  Once my she was given the chance, she quickly took over and established herself . Once I started my transition early in life it was a long project but one which was worth it in the long haul.

Transgender Survivors versus Victims

 

Image from Jen Theodore 
on Unsplash

There is a huge difference between being a survivor in life than a victim. Perhaps an over simplification of the two is a survivor takes what is given to them, lives with it and in the end result make it all better.  On the other hand, a victim becomes a martyr in their own mind and is slow to make improvements. It is very easy for a transgender woman or trans man to be a victim. After all, why were we "chosen" to live such a difficult life. Often it takes years to realize we are not victims after all. For some reason we were given the opportunity to explore two sides of the binary gender spectrum. 

By years I mean the struggle we go through to just fit into a society which seems increasingly hostile against us. I went through some of it yesterday when I was running my errands.  My first stop was at the Post Office where I stopped to mail one of Liz's (my wife) packages which contained her handmade beaded jewelry she makes. I could only describe the woman at USPS behind the counter as older and somewhat bewildered with her meeting a transgender woman probably for the first time. But, since it was the weekend of  Transgender Day of Visibility, it was a good as time as any to be exposed to the real world. In a matter of seconds I dropped off Liz's package for it's trip to California and the clerk turned her attention to her next postal patron. 

Ironically, on my way back home, I needed to stop and reward myself for all the errands I attended to. So I stopped at a coffee shop drive through for a special coffee brew. One for each of us. As I pulled up to the window at the drive through, I was waited up by a cute, tattooed obviously young queer girl who was very nice. Perhaps she noticed we were distant cousins on the LGBTQA spectrum. To keep the line moving, I quickly paid and exchanged pleasantries with her and was on my way. Looking back, she reminded me of my transgender grandchild. I left with the hope she has a bright future of life ahead of her.

So, in the matter of two stops I had seen both ends of the public gender spectrum. One bewildered older person and one friendly energetic queer person. By now you may be wondering what all this has to do with victims versus trans survivors. I learned long ago, I couldn't run and hide if I was ever able to progress in the world as my authentic feminine self. I needed to overcome all the nights of coming home crying after being laughed at or stared at in public. I think being a survivor to me was when I came to the realization if I could never be mistaken totally for a cis-woman, I could still live a life as an out fulltime transgender woman. I wish I could tell you where I came up with the strength to be a survivor rather than staying home and feeling sorry for myself. Perhaps my best trans girlfriend at the time said I passed out of sheer willpower. I believe it was because deep down I felt what I was doing was right and felt so natural. Just to be able to go out and free myself from my gender closet encouraged me to not be a victim. Perhaps for the first time in my life. 

The urge turned out to be so strong for me to live as a woman, I was able to overcome the false idea that women have an easier life than men. When in realty, the opposite happened. I learned a cis woman's life was a many layered often difficult existence and I wanted to learn more and more. As I did I became more of a survivor than I ever thought I could ever be as I lost all of my male privileges. No more could I expect to be respected because of my white older maleness and be called the hated and unwanted "Sir" word. I needed to start all over again in a feminine foreign world and prove once and for all I was a survivor versus a victim. Now we all need to be survivors to battle all the gender bigots seeking to erase us. Perhaps now more than ever before.    

Girls, Girls, Girls

Image Courtesy 
Motley Crue

This morning following a quick trip to the post office, I happened to hear the group Motley Crue sing their song "Girls, Girls Girls".  Hearing it always takes me back to experiences with girls I had when I was growing up. I would say my formative years but then I think I am still in my formative years in many ways during my senior years. 

I grew up outside of a small to medium sized town in a pre-suburban rural area where there were relatively fewer children in the neighborhood. As I remember, only around six and only one of them was a girl. It was definitely a male dominated structure including our family lives. There would be no discussion at all of the possibility of not wanting to be a boy at all. The problem I had was I had very few feminine role models to interact with in my own peer group. Since I was exceedingly shy, my gender issues which I was becoming increasingly aware of became even worse. Much of the problem was I was too isolated from girls and watched them from afar. 

Since I did live in a rural area, the school I went to was small also. In fact I went there from Kindergarten through the ninth grade with basically the same students which meant the same girls. When I hit the eighth grade and puberty began to set in, more and more I began to realize I didn't just want to socialize with the girls, I wanted to be one of them. I remember vividly how a few of the girls would wear their mini skirts, cross their legs and tease all the boys who wanted to admire them. I so wanted to be like them.

Little did I know, the older I became, the stronger my desire to be a woman would be. As I was a disk jockey for many events, I wondered how it would be to be a female groupie for one of the major musical groups they followed.  I was really triggered when my second wife and I went to one of the many Jimmy Buffett party/concerts we went to in Cincinnati. Of course there were tons of scantily dressed attractive women to look at. Even though I was a "Parrot Head "and loved the music, I couldn't get over how much I wanted to attend and look just like one of the attractive women I was admiring. As I did many times back in those days, I just tried to drink my feelings away to no avail.

Sadly, these days, "Jimmy Buffett" still comes to Cincinnati for a fun riverside concert but even though I could go now as a transgender woman, it would be very difficult due to my problems walking any distance at all. It seems my desire to be among the  "girls girls girls" in a big party situation will have to wait for another lifetime.  In the meantime, I can still listen to the song with the satisfaction I made it to my goal of living as a transgender woman.

Transgender versus Bi-Polar

Image Courtesy Fa Barboza on
UnSplash 

Years ago, when I was diagnosed having a Bi-Polar disorder, suddenly a portion of my life I had struggled through so long made sense. At the time I was going through terrible long lasting mood swings that often lasted for days on end. On some days I found it very difficult to even get out of bed and go to work. Plus, to make matters worse I tried to self medicate with immense amounts of alcohol.  At the time I was seeing one of the only gender psychologists in Ohio at the time. Ironically, she almost said immediately she couldn't "cure" my gender desires to be a girl but started to question me in depth concerning the immense mood swings I was suffering through. After a very short time she explained to me my moods were not all attributed to my gender dysphoria but in reality I was suffering Bi-Polar issues. 

At the time, I was relieved. She started me on medications which I remain on to this day. In addition I was able to separate the problems which were hurting my everyday life. At times it seemed unfair I needed to live with being transgender as well as Bi-Polar at the same time. But who ever said life would be fair (said my parents). 

Once I found my way into the Veteran's Administration health care system, I needed to separate my two main issues. I certainly did not want one issue to interfere with the other and somehow the "experts" would say my Bi-Polar condition was due to me being transgender. Then my quest to be approved for hormone replacement therapy would be rejected. At this time I was assigned to a therapist I would never forget. Destiny was smiling on me and way back then there were few therapists who knew little to nothing about transgender issues. Defying all the odds, I was assigned to one of the few VA therapists who did. She never questioned  my two issues and immediately began to fill out and approve the paperwork to allow me to begin HRT.  At the same time she cleared the way for me to continue my Bi-Polar treatment so my moods and excess anxiety was kept under control.  I was with my therapist non stop until last month when both of us decided it was time to conclude our sessions since so many others needed it too and VA staffing levels weren't getting any better. I am extra fortunate also to have an understanding wife  who can help with any of my mental health issues. 

In my past I have encountered several other transgender individuals who said as soon as they completed their gender transition all their anxiety and/or depression faded away.  I was just not as fortunate.  For better or for worse it seems my Bi-Polar issues are irrevocably intertwined with me being a transgender woman. It is something I just had to learn to live with. With a lot of help!

Making It

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart Archives

 In many ways this post is an extension of yesterdays which mentioned the feelings you had when you saw your true self for the first time. In this post, I am going to look at the point you when you figured you had achieved a portion of your gender goals. My example is looking back to when I started to break out of my gender closet and explore the world as my feminine self. 

It all happened when I got past dressing as a trashy teen girl in a male body and learned more or less what I could wear to fit in and blend in with the public at large. Without attracting undo attention to myself.  The hard way I learned the meaning of fashion styles such as business professional and boho to name a few. If I wanted to blend in with other professional well dressed women at an upscale mall, I would dress in my best business professional outfit. I was able to purchase on sale a beautiful black pants suit I loved which I paired with black heels or flats and my shoulder length blond wig and never had a problem when I went to an upscale venue. To this day, I wish I had a picture but I don't. 

On the other hand I had several "Boho" influenced outfits I wore frequently to the other venues I went to such as sports bars. The fashion influence came as close as I could come to my late college, pre Army days when I yearned to be influenced by the hippie style of the women I admired. The true success to both of the fashion styles I was attempting was I was all of the sudden "making it" in the public's eye. When I did, I found I could then concentrate on the finer challenges of being a woman. Which up till then, I thought was an impossible goal. In other words, I could concentrate on moving more femininely as well as the most important challenge of all...communicating one on one with other women. Initially I was caught off guard with how many women wanted to start a conversation with me. Looking back, I am sure the great majority of them were just curious of why a former male person would want to join their world. Conversation starters such as I love your earrings were common. When it happened I was scared even more because then I had to rely upon my challenged vocal skills to get by. 

Ironically, making it on occasion brought more challenges than benefits. Every time I made it to one goal such as basic communication, it all felt so natural I needed to move forward to another equally as distant goal. Such as maintaining my feminine self longer and longer before I needed to go back to my unwanted old male self. The longer I waited to go back, the more distant his memory became and the only real hold he had on me was the love I felt for my wife of twenty five years who was adamantly against my final trnasition to a all feminine lifestyle. When she tragically passed away from a heart attack at the age of fifty, my path was suddenly open to change my gender lifestyle to be a full time transgender woman. 

Finally, when all the expected and unexpected effects of hormone replacement therapy set in, I knew I had all the help I needed to never turn back. I most certainly had reached the true point of making it.