Tonight I have to find a downtown coffee shop for a Transgender Day of Remembrance event coming up in November. I have agreed to sit on the planning committee. If I can find the place and secure a close by parking place I will feel I am lucky, as I am still wearing this damn walking boot.
Thursday, is another social event for the Crossport transgender – crossdresser support group I am part of. We are trying out a new place, which is always exciting. With the weather the way it is (warm) I may decide to wear one of my long summer sleeveless maxi dresses. It will be very stylish with my boot! 🙂
Saturday is another The Ohio State University game to watch, it’s the last “tune-up” game before tangling with Nebraska next week. After the football game, Liz and I are supposed to meet a few other friends for dinner.
Of course, none of this includes the regular weekend errands we have to do. So I am sure something else will come up to do.
ConnieSeptember 16, 2019 at 2:57 PMThe transgender umbrella is large, and seems to be growing. Yes, the truth is that some of us just cannot live a compartmentalized life – being at different places on the gender spectrum as the situation or desire may dictate. The one thing we all have in common, I suppose, is that we all have a gender identity different from the binary norm that has one’s gender identity and assigned-at-birth gender in congruence. There’s something more to it than the intensity of dysphoria, but I believe that may well be a large factor. I know that my dysphoria could not be tempered through cross dressing alone. Cross dressing, for me, was a means toward an end, giving me the confidence and self awareness of who I really am – and needed to be every minute of every day. That doesn’t make me better than one who is satisfied to express their gender identity with more plasticity, whether that be through cross dressing, non-binary identification, or a drag act. It does, however, make me different.
As someone once said, when you meet a trans person, you can only say that you’ve met just one trans person. Of course, the emphasis should be on person, and not trans. I think that most of us would prefer we be taken for who we are, and not what we are. I may have a personal moral objection to someone who is fetish-oriented and predatory, but I shouldn’t care whether they are also trans….except that my insecurities may cause me to be somewhat ashamed that I am under the same umbrella. What I think of such a person is really none of my business, though, and I can only do my best to show others who I am (a good person, I think, who happens to be trans). I can’t be worrying about others, especially having had lived most of my life worrying about how others would see me (as a trans woman). As my mom used to tell me, pick your friends, but leave your nose alone – unless you happen to have a long nose hair protruding from it – in which case you may make more friends if you removed it. 🙂
I know what you mean about being thought of as looking down on someone who “just crossdresses”. I am still mostly in the closet, as are most of my online friends, who help keep me sane. And it’s so hard to know what the correct label is for ourselves, but the point is that labels only help to an extent. They can easily divide more than unite. I truly believe I’m a trans woman, but to others, maybe I’m not. Regardless, I’m just me. Intent in writing is so difficult to discern online. I’d always request someone ask me to clarify if they think I’m putting someone or something down, before reacting negatively. It’s a fine line.
After getting flat out smoked by several cross dressers about my comments about a fetish orientated predatory CD a couple weeks ago, I have e a tendency to be a little more careful on what I say, or write.
What I said was misconstrued to mean I was better than them because I am transgender, which is so far from the truth. The truth is, I can’t do what cross dressers do and just dress up a couple days a week. It nearly killed me.
All of this brings up a question from a comment I received from Connie, could you give up your cross dressing?
” A few months after I had ventured out of the closet, I attended a fancy cross dresser event. The “Grand Dame” of the group had taken a prominent seat, and her attendants were bringing food and drink to her. I noticed her obvious limp when she got up and headed for the ladies room (in her heels). I asked her, later, what was wrong. She told me that she had developed a foot problem, and that the doctor had told her she’d have to give up wearing heels altogether. So, she told me, this was going to be her final outing – because it would be no fun if she couldn’t wear high heels. Although I was pretty sure, even at that time, that I was not a cross dresser, I knew enough that she would not be able to quit cross dressing*. I told her that, but she was adamant that decades of cross dressing was now coming to an end – just because she couldn’t wear her heels. I think she may also have had a shoe fetish, but it was unbelievable to me that one could give up such a large part of their life for something as small as a pair of shoes. All the time I was talking with her, by the way, I was distracted by her nose hair that was curling up from her nostril at least an inch. Now, that may well be reason enough to give up trying to present oneself as a lady – not to mention a Grand Dame!
This was just one of the “I know I’m not a cross dresser if…” I added to my list, in preparation for my impending transition. No, I would not be happy if I had to wear a boot, or even have to give up wearing heels, but it would not change who I am. Whether it be from an old football injury or from wearing very high heels too often, there’s no need to put oneself on injured reserve when you know this trans life is not merely a game.
*I heard later, after I had left the group, that the Grand Dame had made a reappearance – hobbling in her heels.”
Thanks for the comment! I know it would be impossible for me to give up my feminine lifestyle. I assume it would be just as difficult for a cross dresser to quit doing it too. Sort of like the “Grand Dame” and her heels.
This weekend has been a return to the abstract called normalcy. Liz and I went back to doing the usual routine on Saturday.
Since The Ohio State Buckeyes played a noon game, the early part of our day was taking four hours to watch the Buckeyes take their football frustrations out on the Indiana Hoosiers.
To make up for all the fun, this week we added a fun trip to our storage shed to look for a few much needed old documents.
From there we went to a couple of stores with me still wearing my boot (for my fractured ankle) which I am very tired of. I am expecting a call from the VA to look at my ankle again this week.
Through all of this, I marvel at the opportunity I have been given to live this transgender life I lead. Looking back, I remember the days when I felt intense pressure just walking into a store as my feminine self.
Now I worry about how my boot will affect how I walk.
Flame Monroe does not want to be known as a transgender comedian, she wants to be known as a comedian who happens to be transgender.
“Because if I wasn’t transgender, I would probably still be a comedian,” she says. “My transgender [identity] is my afterthought because when you introduce me as a ‘transgender comedian’, or a ‘drag queen comedian,’ most people don’t hear the ‘comedian’ part. All they hear is ‘transgender’ or ‘drag queen.’
The result is then continued difficulty for her to be treated like any one of her other funny counterparts. But just one look at her standup set and you know she can hang with the big dogs.
Monroe is one of six comedians featured in Tiffany Haddish Presents: They Ready, a collection of half-hour comedy specials executive produced by the Girl’s Trip breakout (and legend Wanda Sykes) now streaming on Netflix. She’s joined by Chaunté Wayans, April Macie, Tracey Ashley, Aida Rodriguez, and Marlo Williams.
Two important discussions came up last night in the transgender – cross dresser support group meeting I went to. One of which involved the age old problem of “civilians” thinking trans people or cross dressers have a choice in choosing their gender lifestyle. Obviously, we don’t. We don’t wake up one day and think “Gee” this will be a great day to change my gender. Arguably one of the tougher things to do as a human being. Not to mention the havoc the change causes to family, friends and work.
To make matters worse, very few of us are “naturals” and have to go through all kinds of contortions to help our exteriors match what our interiors are feeling. I know I am basically speaking to the choir here in Cyrsti’s Condo but if I am not, imagine waking up in the morning not knowing which gender you are.
These days though, we are fortunate to be experiencing the rise of the acceptance of “gender fluid” individuals. people are being accepted for being a curious mixture of the two binary genders, plus at the least, claiming gender fluidity gives questioning trans people a niche to go to while they explore where they are going with their lives.
All in all, times are a changing as we begin to explore all the fascinating facets of life humans can explore.
The second discussion which came up last night (by me) was how we know we are making the correct life choice as we begin our transition. Some end at cross dressing, others go all the way through surgery and physically change their gender. Take me for example. My inner gender compass centered up when I started to live full time as a transgender woman. I don’t need to risk my body and have any surgeries.
My message last night seemed to resonate with a new attendee who was just starting down their (my assigned pronouns) gender path. They were questioning when they would know which direction they were headed as a cross dresser or beyond. I simply told them to try to feel what your inner compass was telling you but harder yet try to follow it.
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.
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.
For the first time in weeks, I am starting to feel better.
I am sure it helps that all my critical heart tests are coming back normal. Whatever normal may be for me. Of course I still have pulmonary, colon and the final (I hope) X=ray on my ankle to go.
I also had my two mental check ups the last two days. For once, I needed both of their help. It will be interesting to see if all the survey’s and interviews I filled out with the VA are effective. I wasn’t in the best state of mind when I did them.
Included in my conversation with my therapist was my unfortunate cross dresser ugly interaction.
Which Connie commented on:
“Are you saying that, if you spent a whole lot of time worrying about what others think of you, you’d still be cross dressing, yourself? I remember having the revelation that I was cross dressing, but I had come to know that I wasn’t a cross dresser. Had I continued to be afraid of what others would think of me, should I transition, I would have retreated back to the closet completely. There’s nothing wrong with cross dressing, but it tends to lead to frustration, eventually, if one is not a cross dresser. It’s like being a singer who is only allowed to lip-synch or, at best, nailing it at karaoke. Hmm, maybe I have just pissed off a few cross dressers, myself.” I meant if I worried about transitioning as a transgender person into a feminine life as far as what others thought, I would have never done it. So, I agree with you, I would have found a closet that eventually would have killed me. As far as cross dressers, or anyone else goes, I try my best not to stereotype. Which I guess I failed at miserably Saturday night.
Well, last night I lost an election to the board of the transgender – cross dresser support group I am part of.
I am not really too torn up about it, as during the meeting I remembered how mind numbing boring a board meeting could be.
I think too, I lost votes because of my Facebook tirade Saturday against an old cross dresser I have known for about thirty years. After the cross dresser made a big deal out of the clear blue sky to praise resident rump and all his policies I told another friend of ours what I felt about the cross dresser. I wasn’t kind and said something to the effect the cross dresser didn’t care about the long (and short) terms of what the current administration is doing to the transgender community because he didn’t have a dog in the fight anyway. Unfortunately, I didn’t say it that nicely and now I have several cross dressers in the group who hold a grudge against me now.
But…if I spent a whole lot of time worrying about what people think of me, I would be in a whole different spot now anyhow.