The Decade in View…The Sword

Looking back at the decade which is almost over, I can’t help but marvel at the changes which occurred. 

Specifically, in 2010 I was struggling totally with my gender identity. The more I lived and experimented with living in a feminine world, the more natural I felt. Unfortunately though, the better I felt the harder it was to give up my male past. After all, there were so many huge questions to answer. Most of my immediate family (my parents) had passed away, as well as most of my closest friends. I only had to worry about my only sibling (a brother) and my only child (a daughter).

Both of them turned out to be my first sword. My daughter embraced me while my brother rejected me. I have written profusely concerning both. Essentially though, my brother refused to accept me while selling out to his right wing, red neck, in laws. I was fortunate in that I gained so much more than I lost. 

Of utmost importance in the decade, was meeting my partner Liz. She basically found me struggling to find myself on a series of online dating sites. Ironically, Liz was looking for a woman when she found me.

On the sites, I was still struggling with my sexuality, thinking I needed a man to be a woman. As it turned out, I didn’t. Before Liz came along, I was able to make friends with two lesbians who did more than they would ever know in helping me in my new explorations of the feminine world. All wasn’t so rosy though as the sword swung again as I was kicked out of one place I frequented and had the cops called on me in another. On the other hand, I distinctly remember a spaghetti dinner I attended at Zena’s (a cis woman friend) when I wore my black short skirt and heels. 

As always though, the sword swung back during the decade and I found myself reaping the benefits of hormone replacement therapy. An old transgender friend once told me I “passed” out of sheer will power. So I needed every bit of help I could get in the transgender presentation department.  It seems impossible to me now it was over seven years ago when Liz and I went out on New Years Eve and I took my first small doses of estrogen. Years later I can thank the meds for softer skin, longer hair, breasts and on certain days, crazy emotions. 

All in all, it has been quite the decade for me. As I look back on it, the decade has been right up next to the 1970’s for me as a time of turmoil and discovery. The sword swung mightily in both decades teaching me that life is but a circle.

The sword of course is just another mystical symbol. Life is also directed by destiny. If you don’t take chances, it may never find you. 

Vacay Post Three

This is a Cyrsti’s Condo post from 2015. It is a very weak attempt to explain a few of my early changes when I restarted hormone replacement therapy:

“More great news yesterday! My estrogen was found not to be the basis of my liver problems this summer…and I am allowed to resume my dosage ASAP. 

Estrogen is like a snowflake, for the most part  the hormone effects each trans person different. 

Yes there is the breast development-which is tied in with your feminine family genetics and normally never up to the expectations of the person on HRT. (Many cis women aren’t satisfied with their breasts, so we are in good company.)

Yes there is the emotional aspect-which I think is the biggest part. You do get “weepy”and experience “hot flashes” -which are different animals unto themselves. As close as I can come explaining one is during my first one, I thought I was internally combusting!

The part of Estrogen effects (so far) I have never been able to explain to anyone (man or woman) is how my world softened internally. Somehow I was more perceptive to the world around me. Cis men don’t experience it and cis women are born with it-so they don’t understand. That’s OK!

Finally, I look forward to a couple exterior changes. My hair will thicken again and my skin will soften-bringing out curves.

Poor Liz (my partner) she gets to live through another MtF gender puberty of sorts. She wasn’t around for my first. She was with me as I started HRT the first time and a form of transgender menopause when I stopped. 

And now, here we go again!!! YAY!!!”

Four years later and it’s way past time to write an update to this post. I will when I start to go “live” again with my posts next week.

How Quiet Can it Be?

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.

What a shame! 🙂

Don’t be a Heroine

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!