The Future

Since we have been focusing on the past here in Cyrsti’s Condo, now lets take a look at something which may benefit you in the future:

“Don’t believe in luck. Believe in destiny. Put yourself in the best place for it to find you!”

Jessie Hart

It’s Not a Choice

One of the most frequent questions I used to get when I met a stranger was, when did I know I was transgender. 

After many years of fumbling around with the answer, the most correct one finally came to me…I have always been this way. 

Now, having said that, certainly there were milestones in my life I could look back on which confirmed my gender dysphoria.  

As a youth, for some reason I never gave much thought to why I wanted dolls for Christmas instead of BB guns. I also didn’t really know why my attraction to girls in school seemed to be different than most of the other boys. 

I don’t remember acting on any of my cross dressing or girlish desires until I was ten or twelve. In fact, I had a paper route which I used the money from to primarily buy feminine clothes and makeup. When I did, I could stay out of my Mom’s wardrobe and makeup. All I had to do was find a good way to hide my stash.

As I grew more accomplished during my high school years, I was also able to keep the bullies away by playing sports, working on cars and dating the occasional girl. All of which just seemed to widen my internal gender gap.

Very soon out of high school (in college) it looked as if the Vietnam War would make a major influence in my life. As it turned out I was drafted out of college and had to face the problem of not being able to do anything about my gender issues for three years. For you purists, I enlisted for three years to be able to better choose my Army job.  As it turned out a good choice when I landed a job in the American Forces Radio and Television Service. 

Why was that important you ask? Because my job landed me in one of the least military areas in the Army. Thanks to that and a Halloween party in Germany, I was able to dress as a woman and eventually come out as a transvestite for the first time to my friends and future wife. 

For awhile I thought I had won the lottery as some of my gender pressure was dialed back. As it turned out though, the true struggles were just beginning.

I will get into those in the next post as well as explaining how fighting my gender dysphoria nearly killed me. 

It took me years to learn it was never a choice. 

Say it Ain’t So!

It doesn’t seem possible but Christmas is right around the corner and parties are already being scheduled.  In fact, I have one coming up on December 19th.

As soon as I found out, I did what most other cis women would do. I scheduled (or tried to) an appointment with my hair stylist.

I found out the soonest I could get in was November 22nd. Not my ideal choice but I found out it was the best I could do. Because I learned she was moving out of town and closing down her business.

She is the one who has a transgender son and is so understanding to the trans cause.  Plus, more importantly, she does such a great job.

Now I have to find another stylist or just let my hair grow out again.

I probably will do a little of both.

Belated

For any number of reasons, I was too busy to post here at Cyrsti’s Condo yesterday. I hadn’t forgotten the importance of the day.

Because of my work back then, I was running a neighborhood style pub/restaurant and I actually was still home getting ready for work when it happened. I hurriedly finished and headed in. 

The whole day was extra eerie as we are within twenty miles of a major air force base and of course the base was under lock down.

At work, the day was extra busy as my quests were tuned into to any news they could get off of one of the five television screens, 

I’m sure it is a tragedy I will never forget exactly where I was and what I was doing. 

As a nation we should never forget either and stand forever… vigilant against outside threats.Β 

Such a Week

It was quite the week.  From critical medical tests to getting in trouble for my comment on a certain cross dresser I have known forever, the week seemed to go on forever.  Now I am awaiting results on my pulmonary (lung) tests and an update on my fractured ankle. I can’t wait to put this behind me for the time being. 

This week is promising to be much more mellow. Assuming the powers to be let me shed my walking boot and my breathing tests come back OK, all I really have to do is go to a cross dresser -transgender support group meeting tonight (Monday) and accompany Liz to her Doctor’s appointments on Wednesday.

I can’t say I will miss having to be somewhere everyday this week.

Here is a mellow thought to leave you with:

Damn Hormones

I haven’t written for awhile here in Cyrsti’s Condo about my involvement with feminine hormones.  To be sure, it’s been a rocky affair, with plenty of blind corners and unexpected results. 

I guess since my recent brush with discontinuing my hormone replacement therapy all due to health concerns, has brought taking the life altering meds back into focus. 

Many people over the years have asked about the process. First of all, most of all the usual changes in skin, breasts, hair etc, started taking effect for me relativity quickly. I would say in the first six months. However, as time passed on, the changes began to slow and all of a sudden, I was looking at 4 plus years on HRT. 

Looking back, the biggest change over the years had to be the emotional roller coaster ride I experienced.  I think perhaps the emotional ride contributed to extra problems when I was in the middle of negotiating a particular difficult bout of gender dysphoria. 

It was during that time I have considered re-evaluating the whole gender process I was going through. Calmer minds prevailed though. 

Here’s an example of the effect feminine hormones have on me. Yes, I cry but mostly when good things happen (especially during football games when Liz is making fun of me.) Yes, I have my own modest sized breasts which seems to fascinate some people. My skin is softer than it has ever been and am slowly and surely developing hips. 

I an truly fortunate to be able to have undertaken this gender adventure health wise.

I Tried it Once

Today I was surprised when a person who should have known better referred to me as he twice in the same conversation.

Finally, I took the next opportunity to throw in the chat I had tried the “he” part of life already and it almost killed me. For those you who don’t know, I tried to commit suicide after a particularly nasty bout with gender dysphoria.

As far as the guy went, he was taken aback and from then on he referred to me with an emphatic “she.”

At least I didn’t have to explain further what I meant

Different Strokes

Sometimes I wonder why I continue to be a regular at the one transgender – cross dresser (Cincinnati) group I go to. The easy answers are I enjoy it and think I have something to add.

The reason I think I have something to add is very simple…I have just survived longer than anyone else in the group. I get many “aha” moments when the occasional cross dresser will deny any advanced feelings about becoming a woman and then, in the next breath say she can’t wait to go somewhere and have men hit on her. I smile knowingly, remembering when I felt the same way. I thought when and if a man hit on me, it was a validation of my feminine self.

It’s a small example of what I hear and feel at the meetings. I am also fascinated by the cross section of socio-economic types who attend. In other words, how such a different cross section of people can come together for a couple hours to hopefully help each other.

My big input at the meeting last night was what I wrote about in Cyrsti’s Condo yesterday. I mentioned the benefit of getting into group situations outside of the LGBTQ community. It is a chance for you to be accepted as a person for a change…not a transgender person. An example is the one person who came to the meeting last night who is a member of two belly dancing groups. I know at least three readers who do the same thing. Paula over in the UK with her music groups, Mandy in all her travels and of course Connie who works a whole job as a woman. (And I know I missed many of you!)

The fact remains not everyone’s goal is to live full time as a woman, however , one should never say never. I am proof of that.

Sometimes I think I am a glutton for punishment. Last night I volunteered to run for the board of the group. However, someone else is too, so maybe they will be chosen instead of me. I am qualified from running years of board meetings with several civic organizations. So we will see.

In the meantime, I will continue to add in my comments and observations when I see fit and hope I don’t bore too many people!

Another Busy Day

Saturday is going to be a test of my foot boot as it is going to be a busy day. I am just going to try to keep my walking to a minimum. 

Liz starts her day with a martial arts class. Including one on board breaking, which takes her to one o’clock, at which time we are supposed to set up at a Mother Earth vending event in which we raise money for the only homeless shelter in a nearby county. It is scheduled to run until eight at which time we tear down and get ready to drive forty five minutes south into Kentucky.

Roh’s Opera House

At ten, we are signed up to tour Rohs Opera House in Cynthiana. We will find out if the rumors of it being haunted are true. After our last haunted adventure turned out to be so intense, I highly doubt if this one will come up to those standards!

One way or another, Saturday is going to be another one of those busy days. I hope my “boot” doesn’t give me the boot!