Second Chances

Image from Mitch on UnSplash.

 
Very early in my final transition from male to female life, my wife Liz told me to make the most of it because very few human beings ever get the chance to stop their lives and start all over.

Her comment made me feel better and yet scared me more as I stared over the gender cliff I was looking at into what I perceived as my dream life. No matter how much time and effort I put into the final preparation into transgender womanhood, I still did not know the full extent of what I was facing. More precisely, I did not have any conception of the uphill battle I would be facing to leave my old male self behind. Once I was behind the feminine gender curtain on a regular basis, I discovered how much further I needed to go to be successful. 

 Following several (many) well documented mistakes in my presentation, I was able to successfully femininize my external male body to a point where I could blend in with other women in the world on a regular basis. I say external presentation, because my internal idea of who I was still presented a problem. It really wasn't until I began to take gender affirming hormones, did I feel as if my interior self was changing to match my exterior look. Very quickly, I began to feel differences to my emotions and for the first time in my life, I could cry tears of sorrow or joy. As the world around me changed, I could feel changes in temperature and even smell as my senses heightened.  Needless to say, I was amazed by the changes and so surprised as I waited for the next set of changes to set in. 

As with anything else in life, the gender changes I was feeling from the hormones began to slow down, and I began to settle into the new life I had made for myself. It all meant finding a new set of friends which I did who turned out to be a small group of lesbians who accepted me for what I was, a woman from a different path than them. When I did fit in, it meant my sexuality would not have to change to men which was successful for me and also meant I would not have to seek out a man to validate my existence. 

Once my new life got rolling, second chances did also. I was able to take an early retirement and live off selling most all of the vintage collectibles my second wife and I had purchased over the years. It all meant I did not have to worry about working another job where I would have to transition at. No second chances needed. 

Perhaps the most important realization I learned from my gender rebirth was, I did not need much direction. As suspected, my inner woman took over quickly and made all the difficult decisions such as moving in with and ultimately marrying my current wife, Liz. Between the two of them, I give all the credit for shaping me into transgender womanhood and making me into the person I am today. 

Diversity is Wonderful

 

LGBTQ Flag, Jack Lucas
Smith on UnSplash.

This morning, I had several errands to run ahead of a fun birthday party I am going to tomorrow. 

The first stop I needed to make this morning was to a local pharmacy which also sells greeting cards, so I could pick up a card for my friend tomorrow. It did not take me long to find a suitable card and I moved on to check out with the guy at the front cash register. For once, since I had such a small purchase, I did use real live cash which I think threw both of us off. 

As far as the cashier went, I had the deep suspicion he was of the LGBTQ community, as he greeted me warmly. After making small talk concerning how nice of a day it was, I left in route to my second stop, putting gas in the car for tomorrow's trip.

At the gas station, I was not prepared to do anything else but pay at the pump and not see another person. All of those plans went away when the card reader at the pump did not work, and I had to go inside to pay. Again, all the reservations of meeting another person were set aside when the cashier was very nice to me and again, I went on with my day.

My next stop turned out to be the toughest and it did not even involve another person to interact with. It was me trying my best to navigate a new ATM at my bank, so I can give a little birthday gift tomorrow. Whoever designed the new machine did not figure out the person using it needed to be a master mover to use it.  Fortunately, there was no one else in the drive thru, because I finally needed to undo my seat belt and open the door of the car to finish my transaction. 

My final stop was to the nearby coffee shop which my wife Liz and I enjoy, and even I found a way to make an easy trip to a drive thru more difficult. When I arrived at the coffee shop, two huge trash dumpsters were blocking one of the entrances to the business. So, then I needed to follow another road around the end of the building to go into the drive thru from its back entrance. Which I finally did. After I ordered and made it up to the window was when the diversity of the day really began to set in. 

As I looked up into the store from my car, what did I see on the wall, but a huge LGBTQ Pride flag. Right then and there I knew it was nice to be wanted in a diverse situation. Especially, in today's world. 

The party tomorrow should be another comfortable diverse situation. It is a birthday party for a transgender woman friend at a big Italian restaurant in a nearby suburb of Cincinnati. To my knowledge, this is the first big outing of my friend's recovery from a fairly major stroke. 

If I don't get lost getting there, I will let you know how the party went for my transgender friend.  

Was I Outdated?

 

My wife Liz. Key West Florida.

Along the way in my increasingly long life, I have considered myself to be outdated. 

As I grew up through the late fifties and the early to mid 60's, I went through my mom's fashions, all the way to the short mini skirted times when I was in middle school. By the time I had cross dressed my way in the mirror to a place where I could control it at all, the world of fashion had changed, and I was outdated for the first time. My miniskirts gave way to hippie boho fashion. I loved the long-haired hippie women around me.

By now you are probably thinking I was resistant to change or was simply ignoring the overall basics of women's fashion. The biggest basic is that fashion always changes. A woman is encouraged to go with the flow of fashion for a number of reasons, good or bad. As I see it, the good or fun aspect of fashion are the seasonal changes. I write occasionally about when the seasons do change here in Ohio, how satisfying it is for me to go through my wardrobe and judge what stays and what goes. It is at these times; I have to figure out if I am outdated or not and most importantly, does it still matter to me at my age. 

As I am sure you all know, as cisgender women age, they go through progressions especially involving their hair. Many start wearing the longer hair of their youth and as they age, the hair becomes shorter and shorter. It was the one age trend I resisted until I had quite a bit of my hair trimmed off at the end of last year before my wife Liz and I went on vacation. It turns out, I fit right in with the other women on the vacation tour we went on to the Florida Keys. 

Just fitting in, was something I never wanted to do. Preferably, as much as possible, I wanted to be on the cutting edge of fashion, if, it involved having a Boho lean. I never got over the admiration I had for the women during my college and military days when I was required to wear my hair short. I made up for the short buzz cuts I had to wear by wearing my hair longer than almost all other women during my senior years. 

If you are familiar with "Stana Short" on the famous Femulate blog, the short she is referring too is in regard to her length of hemlines on her famously long and shapely legs. I never had to face the skirt length dilemma following my love affair with miniskirts in my youth until the eighties I believe it was when they briefly returned. One of my favorite outfits I had was a black mini I wore with one of my fluffy long sweaters and a pair of flats when I went out shopping. It was one of the few times in my life as a transgender woman that my fashion matched the majority of what cisgender women were wearing.

These days, at the age of seventy-five, I am happy to be able to stay active and mobile at all. Sometimes I think my favorite colorful leggings make me outdated in my fashion, but I love them and that is all that matters. I suppose too, I am allowed to be outdated. 

Every Eye was on Me

JJ Hart

 When I was first entering the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, I felt as if every eye was on me.

For the most part, most eyes were on me. Especially from other women. I vividly remember the times I was looked from head to toe by another woman. Slowly but surely, she was undressing every aspect of my fashion and making no secret of it. I thought at the time, I was just being introduced to the aspect of womanhood and to just get used to it.

At the same time, I was working on my overall femininized presentation, I was trying my best to mimic the way women move so I would not appear as a linebacker in drag. My adventures took me as far as trying to walk like a girl in large box stores late at night. I wonder now how many security cameras I made it on trying to perfect my walk. Through it all, I needed to be careful I was not walking the wrong way at the wrong time. Or for example, remember to not try to walk like a woman when I was working as a man. The entire process became more difficult the more I began to split down my time increasingly in favor of being a woman. I started with just cross dressing when I could a few days a week and ended with splitting my time four days a week in a feminine world versus three as a man. The whole process became even more complicated because I was still working my full-time job as a man. Especially when it came time to getting a new pair of glasses and I wanted to change over to feminine frames. 

The most difficult aspect of what I was attempting to do was the mental aspect of trying to juggle both main binary genders. I needed every moment to work on my transition and get used to all the nuances of it. A big portion of the process involved being looked at. At the least, no matter how well I applied my makeup, styled my hair and picked the right clothes for the occasion, I was still a big woman and would naturally attract attention. I attempted to conquer the size issue by losing weight. I responded by losing a significant amount of weight which helped in two ways. I could fit into better fitting women's clothes and at the same time look better when I went through another woman's inspection.

Of course, I was inspected by men too, but the inspection was much simpler, and I knew what it would involve. Women on the other hand, had more to look for since they had experience in the fine points of putting outfits together. At some point in their life, they had to put together everything from shoes to wardrobe to hair to put an outfit together. Since I needed to do it too, I knew what they were looking for and tried to plan for it. My accessories needed to match the rest of my hand-picked outfit to succeed. Even still, the times I went through helped me to prepare my future life as a transgender woman. 

If every eye was going to be on me, I was just going to have to adjust and do the best I could. If it was possible, I would try to thank all those women who looked me up and down. They taught me what I needed to do to succeed in my future. 

Opening Your Eyes

 

Image from Jesper Brouwers
on UnSplash.

I found I needed to be careful as I tried to negotiate a difficult gender path to transgender womanhood. 

Most likely, my eyes were open for the first time when I explored my mom's wardrobe for clothes and makeup I could try and see myself in the family's full length hallway mirror. When I saw myself, my eyes somehow were opened, and I knew I could never go back. Being a so-called normal boy was not going to cut it. 

From my humble beginnings, a small fire within me grew to a point where I knew I could never turn back from at least trying to set feminine goals and living up to them. The problem was, I had no workbook to rely on when the going got rough. I had no girls sleep overs to go to, or a mom to council me on my appearance. It came down to my relying on the mirror to tell me everything I needed to know about my femininized life, and it turned out the mirror could easily lie to me. It would tell me I was pretty, when in fact, I looked like a clown.

Following being rudely rejected by the public, my eyes were finally opened to the fact I needed to make changes in what I was doing if I was ever to survive. Soon I was haunting every nearby thrift store I could find for just the right feminine wardrobe items to add to my closet. It took a while, but I began to turn the corner and began to work my public presentation to a point where I could blend in with the cisgender women around me. My only real problem came when I did not have the finances to purchase the rare item, I thought I needed in the worst way. An example I still remember was a full-length wool powder blue coat I found at a discount coat store. It was in my size, went with my blond wig and I desperately wanted it. Long story short, no matter how many times I went back to the store and admired myself in the mirror, there was simply no way I could buy it. The main problem outside of affording it, was where would I hide it from my wife when I got it home. I needed to give up and move on to a cheaper alternative to keep out the Ohio cold. 

My eyes were really opened when I was allowed behind a rather formidable feminine curtain which women use to protect themselves from men. First of all, I needed to earn my way into their inclusive club by proving I was much more than a casual observer of women and most of all, not another drag queen. Step by step as I earned my way into a new and exciting gender world, I knew I was making the right move away from a male life. Mainly because I felt so natural in my experiences I was having. I cannot say my life was easy back in those days because I was stuck between two genders but on the other hand, each time I reached a new point of success, then I could not ever turn back. Again, because I was feeling I was headed in the right direction. 

Another problem I had during my journey was making sure my vision was correct. It was easy to have 20/20 vision when I was looking at myself in the mirror, but much harder when I was having a conversation with a strange woman. I was burnt many times when my vision of what was going to happen was blurred. 

Each time my eyes were opened, deep down I knew I could never go back. 

Wishes were not Enough

 

Image from Delphina Iacub on UnSplash.

In yesterday's post, I wrote about the amount of time I spent wishing I was a girl as I went about attempting to live a male life.

As I pointed out yesterday, I finally arrived at a point where every spare second, I was becoming dedicated to my pursuit of becoming a girl. Which included watching the girls around me closely at school. I was desperately jealous of their fashion and lifestyle. 

As I became older, in order to survive in the world, I put less time wishing I was feminine and adding more time into actually doing it. Which meant of course I needed to unlock the door to my gender closet and try to enter the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Back in those days, I took a lot of rejection, as I thought I looked like a clown in drag. Stubbornly, I persisted until I could find the right mixture of makeup skill, fashion and wigs. Once I did, my life across a new and exciting gender border became much more satisfying and fun. So much so, I was fooled into thinking my feminized wishes were coming true. 

It was about that time when I hit a gender wall as I found out what my wife was telling me all along, I had a long way to go on my path to transgender womanhood past just looking like a woman. I needed to quit wishing and find out what she was talking about. 

The more I explored the world as a trans woman, the more the world opened to me as gender curtains were pulled back. Of course, I knew cisgender women had their own world to exist in but I did not know how strong and in-depth that world was. For the longest time, my head was spinning as I tried my best to absorb the daily lessons I was learning. Primarily about communication and co-existence with other women on their playing field. Certainly, wishes were not enough when it came to surviving in a woman's world. I found I drew the curiosity of other women who wondered what I was doing in their world, and I had to be better than the average ciswoman just to get by. 

It was about this time; I decided to take a shortcut in my external femininized appearance and research doctors to see if I was healthy enough to begin gender affirming hormones (or HRT). I was, and the hormones almost immediately went about making changes such as softening my skin and producing breasts. All of which helped me to help my presentation skills. Especially, since I did not have any male pattern baldness and quickly was able to grow my own hair out and go wigless. 

I found by this time, wishes did not have to be enough, and I could move up my final transition timeline. Finally, my long-awaited dream could become a reality, and I could put my hated male clothes away forever. Perhaps the best part was, I never wished for him to return.

A Destination or a Journey?

JJ Hart

 Early on when I was stuck in my dark gender closet, I viewed myself on a way to a destination, not much different than a vacation from my male self. 

Then, when I began to experience more "vacations" than I could handle, I began to notice I was on more of a journey than I thought. Looking back, I was missing all of the signs I was much more than a part time crossdresser, pursuing a harmless hobby. The difference always was I wanted to do more than look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. Needless to say, I spent many hours of my spare time wondering what my true problem was. Time, I wished I could have back. 

Instead of getting any of the time back, I invested it in my femininized appearance in the mirror, and I still thought I was on some sort of a mysterious journey no one else knew anything about. It would be years before I was able to attend transvestite mixers to meet other likeminded people who I thought were on the same path as I. Imagine my shock when I found out I had waited so long to find out I did not fit in well with almost all of the others who were attending the mixer. Somehow, I just still felt different. Probably because most of the attendees viewed themselves as men in dresses and my views of my gender self were just beginning to form and they were so much deeper than thinking I was a man in a dress. 

It was about this time, I realized I was on more of a journey when I began to know transsexual women who were making the ultimate gender step in their life, gender realignment surgery to be exact. I was very intrigued by the idea and deep down I wondered if that was the journey I was headed on. The problem was I was stuck where I was in my male life and was not prepared like my friends were to make such a serious move. To be sure, gender surgery would certainly be a journey for me as I had quite the complex male life I was living and to be truthful, on occasion, I did enjoy the white male privilege I had earned. 

All I ended up doing on my journey was screwing up my mental health. Simply, the stress of juggling two of the binary genders became too much and I was very self-destructive. It was then I knew, my gender path was so much more than just a destination and I really needed to step up my game if I was going to survive. It was decision time. Either I went forward as a transgender woman or retreated back into my male world. 

The deciding factor was I felt so natural as a trans woman, so I did not stop my journey until I made it to a point where I could save my mental health and even my life. Certainly, even though I had reached many destinations along the way, my life turned out to be a gender journey which at times was touch and go. I ended up not going and stayed the course to my own form of transgender womanhood and was a better person for it. 

The Ultimate Confirmation

 

Image from George Pagan III 
on UnSplash.

My ultimate confirmation in life came when I arrived at a point when I knew without a doubt, I needed to live out the remainder of my life as a transgender woman.

My journey took me to the age of sixty when I finally put my male clothes away and live my dream. Along the way of writing the blog, I have received many interesting comments. Many concerning why I took so long and equating my time as a very serious cross dresser as somehow meaning I was never actually transgender at all. The best all time comment I received was, I was just another old guy on hormones. The comment came so long ago, I do not even remember how I responded.

I can make many excuses as to why it took me so long to transition completely such as I had a wife, I dearly loved who was against it, and a job I worked years to get which paid me well. While those are the given reasons, my ultimate confirmation came from the fact, I just did not have the confidence in myself to do it. For years, I was still being laughed at any time I went out in the world as my femininized self. Before I became very serious about my presentation and lost nearly fifty pounds off my masculine frame and began to take better care of my skin so I could wear less makeup. At that point, the laughter stopped, and I began to acquire the all-important confidence I needed to live my new transgender womanhood. 

Without confidence, I had nothing and little by little, I began to acquire it by doing trips into the world which took me away from the easy malls and clothing stores I was accepted in for my money, to the restaurants which presented me with whole new challenges to overcome such as having to communicate with servers and bartenders one on one. I even went as far as to stop going to the gay bars I thought were safe and going back to the big sports bars I was used to going to as a man. At that point, my ultimate confirmation was establishing myself as a regular at a couple of key venues where I was even given restroom privileges. Obviously, my confidence skyrocketed to a point where it never had been before. I could not wait to do more and more. 

Even with my newfound confidence, a fulltime life as a transgender woman eluded me. There still were huge life questions such as what would I do to support myself, all the way to how I would tell my friends and family. It was about this time in my life when destiny stepped in and answered nearly all my problems. In the space of a couple tragic years, my wife passed away, along with nearly all of my close friends. Leaving me all alone to guide my life in any direction I wanted to. The direction it took me was straight to gender affirming hormones which the Veterans Administration health care system was just starting to prescribe. Since I already was a VA health member, I went through the approval steps and was approved for the HRT program. 

My male self was stubborn about letting to but even he could not fight the ultimate confirmation he was facing. He should have never been in my life to start with and once he got there and established himself, he was difficult to remove. 

Gender Mandates

 When I was born, I did not have a choice of which gender I was supposed to be, my birth gender was male and there were to be no questions asked. 

In other words, I was mandated to enter a male world which I came to totally dislike and rebel against. Similar to many of you, I first had an idea something was wrong with my perceptions of my gender at a very early age when I went exploring in my mom's clothes. My first glimpses of myself in the full-length family mirror were memorable and electric. I knew right then, I needed to figure out a way to do more. 

The problem was, in my very male dominated family, I was mandated to go in only one gender direction and follow the male path. Afterall, if I made it, I was offered the promise of white male privileges. On the other hand, if I was caught cross dressing at all, I was surely on my way to see a therapist and perhaps be thrown into the dreaded conversion therapy. My answer was simple; I needed to continue in my underground cross-dressing ways and hope I did not get caught.  My major problem was my slightly younger brother who I was always stuck being with. Somehow, I did manage to do more and slightly lessen my mandate. When I did, I found I could enjoy my femininized self even more than I ever had before.

Of course, the most male mandate I faced was being drafted into the United States military during the Vietnam War. Since women were excluded from the draft, it was an exclusively male experience. I still resent having to face my time in the service when women did not, but I served my time for three years and was honorably discharged. I suppose too, my time in the Army disguised the true me to the outside world, since my friends and my dad already had served their country. It was mandated to be my turn if I wanted it or not. 

Slowly but surely, over the years, my mandate changed from male to female. I went very slowly to insure I would have less and less mishaps on my gender path. Each step I took gave me the confidence to take another. Of course, at some point, my mandates would collide. When they did, my mental health struggled, and I was fortunate (after several tries) to find a qualified therapist who helped me separate my bi-polar condition with my gender issues.

My largest feminine mandate came when I started gender affirming hormones. I knew almost immediately I had made the right decision. All the changes the hormones made to my body felt so natural. Inside and out, the changes were so dramatic, I think my body was always waiting for them. 

As mandates go, I would be remiss if I did not mention the gender privileges which go with the mandate.  Since I have spent quite a bit of time up close with male and female gender privileges, I know a little about both sides. As with most things, male privilege is more upfront and direct, while female privilege is more layered and indirect. 

One way, or another, mandates are a serious part of life and are difficult to control. Plus, they are so hard to deny.