I am looking ahead to another fairly quiet weekend. Except for Sunday.
This Sunday is the Transgender Day of Visibility in Cincinnati and we (Liz and I) plan on going to it. The weather is supposed to be chilly but fairly clear, so it will be interesting to see how many people show up. More interesting perhaps will be the number of sponsoring entities who set up.
As I have written before, the professional baseball team (in a good year) is playing a few blocks away from the event, so it will be interesting how many people get scared away. One way or another, I look for a fairly good turnout. Plus, all the cross dressers in their heels may not want to walk the amount of distance it will take to get to the event location around a big downtown fountain.
Also, I have not totally ruled out Saturday night. It
is always a possibility for a social event too. The cross dresser who has had this huge crush on Liz has seemingly found another lust object, so the invitations may be on the decrease.
No matter how you figure it, just being a woman and losing your male privilege can bring possible safety problems. I have written a number of times here in Cyrsti’s Condo about potential problems I ran (or walked) into as I began to transgender into a more feminine lifestyle. Very quickly, I was corned at a party by huge admirer and had to be bailed out by my deceased wife. The other happened late at night on an urban downtown sidewalk in front of a gay venue. Both were really ill advised but I managed to escape unscathed with a new admiration for what women go through. I hitched up my big girl panties and always asked for help in getting to my car.
How this post came about though mainly comes from my group’s moderator calling a bigoted hater an ass when he called her an “it” and a freak. This all came in a bar and very easily could have resulted in creased violence to her (the moderator). Finally, it all finished up with him being arrested and being barred from the pub. She was lucky and the band even stopped briefly to see if she was alright.
Another person with a background in entertaining the public in a band in bars is Connie. Here is one of her experiences which came in reference to my post “Back in the Day.”
“Speaking of “back in the day,” I remember one time (mid-seventies) when I observed a disagreement – turned knife fight – in a bar, as I was playing music on the stage. We didn’t stop playing, though, even as the EMTs came in to care for the guy lying in a pool of blood. Like with the band on the sinking Titanic, we were urged, by the manager, to keep playing – as if everything were normal. We learned, later, that the stabbing victim had been pronounced DOA. This whole event has been etched into my mind, and, although I keep it in the back, I know that it has come to the front every time I have had to deal with some jerk who has a problem with my gender status. I would never take it for granted that anyone else would step up or step in to protect me, so I do my best to keep negative confrontations from escalating. I want to ensure that my music keep going, after all”.
Self preservation should always be our goal! I know in my case, HRT has taken a toll on my old body anyhow and I better be able to get out of situations with my wits not my brawn. Which any woman learns at a young age anyhow.
As I said earlier, I was fortunate to learn it all tje relatively easy way!
At last night’s transgender – cross dresser support group meeting (as predicted), I had to go “back in the day” to remind the predominately younger group of how difficult it was to even be a transvestite. As you may or may not remember, back in the fifties and into the early sixties in some places, it was a crime to even be caught dressing as a woman (if you were a man) in public. I also brought up the days before Al Gore invented the internet and how in the dark our closets became. In fact, another of one of the older attendee’s mentioned the days of combing through the local library only to find a book on cross dressing, then be afraid to be seen reading it.
Indeed things are better for the average trans or cross dressing person in today’s society. Even the moderator commented after her glowing remarks about going to the Pennsylvania “Keystone Conference” last week that her ugly encounter with the gender bigot actually finished with a positive experience. It seems, even the band stopped to make sure everything was fine with her.
Being the bitch that I am sometimes, I added an experience shared with me by my hairdresser with the transgender son. He is fourteen and was in the middle of his first serious relationship with a cis-girl. Everything was fine until her Mother got involved and broke them up by using the religion card. I can think of nothing worse since where they live is also where the “Leelah Alcorn” tragedy
happened. Leelah was the teenage transgender girl who committed suicide several years ago by stepping out in front of a semi truck on a local interstate. All because her parents wouldn’t accept her…mainly for strict religious reasons.
A tragic end to such a young life.
Other than all of that, the meeting moved along well and Jennifer from Oregon was actually back for a second meeting.
It all ended on a humorous note when several of the group volunteered to take her out for a “Cincinnati Three Way.” If you didn’t know, Cincy is known for it’s highly unique Greek/Armenian
chili. A “Three Way” is chili with spaghetti and onions. I hope she enjoyed it!
Finally, leave it to Connie to come up with this:”So, are you the Obi-Wanda-Kenobi of the support group? ”
Tonight is the transgender – cross dresser support group meeting I go to on a regular basis. Usually when I go, I wonder what imaginable support I could give anybody. Then I started to realize I can lend a helping hand with the occasional comment and by just being there. Normally, I am considered the “elder” in the group and can add insight into how life was for trans people even before there was such a term.
I hope too, some of my insights may mean something but who knows. Perhaps I am doing it as much for me as I am for others. After all, one of my reasons for starting Cyrsti’s Condo at all, was to pay forward any of my experiences which could be beneficial to anyone else.
Changing the subject, yesterday turned out to be an interesting day too. The day itself could only be described as a “raw” day. Chilly, windy and gray with very light misty rain. In the middle of it all, here our little group was huddled in a local park picnic shelter discussing the Cincinnati Witches Ball Halloween party.
At the last meeting, I asked if the leader of the group needed help setting up our usual table at Pride this June. My answer came yesterday when she slammed a couple pieces of paper down in front of me and said since I wanted to do Pride, here it was. She was so angry and stressed, she ended up quitting the group a short time later. So now, since I opened my mouth before, I am in charge of our Pride booth. It’s not that big of a deal if I can get the paper work and/or promotional materials we always use.
I should have learned along time ago, don’t open your mouth and volunteer, unless you want to be accepted. Besides, I always have such a great time at Pride!
Not my Mom, if she returned from the great beyond, it would be bigger news. This post is about meeting up with the woman who you might recall, harassed me a couple times about my hair. I made the comment at the time, she reminded me of how my Mom would have approached me.
Fortunately this time, I just had my trip to my hair dresser Friday, so visually I was ready for her.
When Liz and I arrived at the outside shelter house near a nearby lake, it didn’t take her long to approach me. To her credit, she was very positive about my hair which indeed made me feel better about our relationship.
Then, she asked could she tell me something and I thought now what? She paused and said how proud she was of me for living the life I wanted to. I was taken totally off guard. Finally I managed to blurt out the truth…I appreciated her acceptance but my choice didn’t come out of bravery or anything like it. I literally didn’t have the chance to be brave, it was either change my life or lose it.
A day later as I look back on her comment though, I feel now as if I finally found a sense of peace with my long deceased Mom. Whose approval is what I really wanted.
At my hairdresser yesterday, she asked me a question her transgender son brought up…does a transgender transition ever end. Her son felt as if it would never stop primarily because he would have to take hormones for the rest of his life. I agreed with that plus added in for me I wondered if my Trans-PTSD would ever go away.
An example happened today. Being Saturday, I went with Liz to two of her martial arts classes and went to the grocery store. Going into today and still loving my latest hair do, I thought I was doing my best to look good.
It must have worked, because everywhere I went, I didn’t have any problems. Well, actually, I did have a problem, myself. No matter how hard I tried, once again I couldn’t relax and live in the moment. All of a sudden, I was no better off than when I was a beginning cross dresser so many years ago.
I still don’t know how long it will take for it to ever go away. Perhaps it never will. Maybe living all those years as a guy will always imprint me.