18 January 2012 by kathleen.

Some years before I started sequence of tasks leading up to transition, I considered the options I had in dealing with my transgender.  The primary goal was to be rid of maleness, and for me that put the testicles at the top of the disposal list.

As a male-bodied person without male reproductive organs, how could I continue to live my life?  I wasn’t adequately aggressive for a man even with the testosterone I had; removing the source of testosterone might relieve pressure in some ways, but would probably make my life harder in others.

I concluded that — for me — the right thing to do was to live as a woman.

You don’t have to agree with me.  That conclusion was, and is, right for me.  Something else might be right for you.  I ponder important decisions for a long time, but once I decide, I pull out all the stops.  I decided to become a woman as completely and as thoroughly as I could be.

Back in the mists of time, I had a manager whose key word was discipline, by which he meant, “Do it my way.”  I developed my own definition: discipline is doing the right thing, whether you feel like doing it or not.

Some of the things I’ve written about passing in recent weeks remind me of things I chose to do because I decided they were the right thing for me to do as the woman I was becoming. They would not have been the right thing if I’d decided to remain male, but having chosen to become female, it “fit” to do them. I wrote once before about doing what is expected, which is to say, doing whatever it is that fits the situation you’re in.

It is not my place to say what you should be, how you should live your life, or how you should express your transgender. You need to identify what is right for you, then live that rightness, all day every day, whether you feel like it or not.

Posted in Passing, AutoBiog | 1 Comment »

23 December 2011 by kathleen.

It’s time for a Christmas blog post.  I had a good family growing up — except at Christmas.  By the time I was in college, I needed bourbon to get through the family gift exchange.

I told my mother that I liked to wear women’s clothes during the summer of 1966.  During the  family gift exchange Christmas a year and a half later, I unwrapped a clothing-shaped box (you know, about 2 inches by 12 inches by 18 inches).  The box was printed with the name of a prominent women’s apparel store in my hometown.

My guilt flared.  Would mom have gotten a nightie or something?  What could she get me at that store that wouldn’t embarrass me?  In my bourbon-infused state, my mind raced over the possibilities, and my face reddened alarmingly.

Let me just tell you about mom’s sense of humor.  Back in the sixth grade, mom had packed me a school breakfast (Catholic school….. Breakfast after communion at mass before classes).  This particular day happened to be April 1, 1959.  I bit into my peanut butter and jelly sandwich to find an April Fool trick from mom: she’d placed a piece of thin cardboard in the middle of my sandwich!

The teacher didn’t think it was funny when I burst out laughing, and so did the kids around me.  This was a loving mother, but one that was capable of a harmless trick now and then.

And this Christmas it was a trick that I got in the apparel box: a man’s shirt.  When I opened it and saw it was just a shirt, I laughed and laughed, but mom was the only one who knew why I was laughing. Mom wouldn’t have embarrassed me that way in front of all the family; that was clear when I looked back over the incident.  My own internalized guilt and my intoxication joined with mom’s playfulness to spark my imagination and my fantasies.

When I recognized the name on the box, I both hoped and dreaded that she’d bought me something feminine.  You may think mom just used that box because it fit the shirt, but I know her better than that.  She had a ton of clothing boxes from previous Christmases — there’s no doubt in my mind that she was deliberately teasing me 44 years ago.  It was a private joke between her and me, and no harm was done.  I still regret that she before I recognized myself as Kathleen, the name she gave me.

What ever your situation, I hope you can look back on at least a few pleasant memories  of your mother and father, as I have done here.

Posted in AutoBiog | 2 Comments »

20 December 2011 by kathleen.

I mentioned my Mexican vacation last time.  On our fourth day of our stay, we took a snorkeling excursion.  My partner likes to snorkel, and we bought a swim mask with underwater camera attached.

As I noted in an earlier post, I am quite bald.  I didn’t feel the turban mentioned in that post was very appropriate to an all-day sailing trip, but I needed something to keep my hairpiece on.  In case you’ve never been on a 30- or 40-foot sailing vessel, let me tell you it gets pretty windy.

I searched some of the shops in Cancun for some sort of head scarf.  I found a shaped scarf in a hideous shade of pink — a shade I believed was not one that any male would allow himself to be seen in.

What do you think? Did I pass? I think I did, because I didn’t hear any unpleasant remarks. There was no way I could snorkel — or even swim. I own a couple of rubber bathing caps, but even if I could wear them over my hairpiece (which I cannot), the piece would come off if I removed the cap. I would have had to wear the bathing cap all day.

I’ve tried this at home, you see. I take off my hairpiece, pull my own hair back with a small scrunchee, and put on the bathing cap. The cap does not seal perfectly, so my own hair gets soaked under the cap. When I take off the rubber cap, I have to blow dry my hair to get it ready to blend with the hair piece. There was no way I could do that on a boat.

I took a big risk of embarrassment. I trusted that the scarf, ugly as it was, would keep my hairpiece from blowing off, and would still look feminine enough to preserve my image. It would have been humiliating if I’d bumped my head and knocked the hairpiece off, or worse yet if I’d fallen off the boat. Taking risks is part of living; nothing provides certainty this side of the grave.

If you’re still believing that SRS will take care of all your problems, please get a grip and come back to reality.  Living life as a woman is satisfying, but it is rarely without risk.

Posted in Passing, AutoBiog | 1 Comment »

18 December 2011 by kathleen.

My partner (who has been known to comment here from time to time as The Wife) and I just returned from a one-week vacation in Mexico.  What makes this event a subject for this blog is that it was my first trip outside the USA as Kathleen.

I didn’t anticipate any legal trouble because I successfully updated my passport after my surgery in March, 2009.  I felt an increased degree of vulnerability, however, when we left the US.  Let me explain.

We went to Cancun, Mexico, a destination chosen owing to receipt of a gift certificate for a one-week stay at one of several hundred possible resorts around the world.  By the time we juggled our availability, the availability of the selected resorts, and the expiration of the certificate, we settled on a hotel in Cancun for last week.  The gift certificate was not exactly what it appeared to be; yes, we stayed a week but it wasn’t quite free.  That saga, however, is out of scope in this blog.

What is in scope is the language barrier.  You might hear someone say, “Oh, everyone there speaks English.  You won’t have any problem.”  I beg to differ.  If you can point to what you want, there is a hope of being understood; otherwise, forget it.  The only people with good English skills are the salesmen — and they are all men! — for time-share condos and for day trips to places of interest around Cancun.  Hotel clerks, waiters, shopkeepers, etc., can respond to your pointing finger but not much else.  Then when you finally think you’ve been understood, you can still get a surprise.

That’s why I felt more vulnerable than I do here.  Because of the language difference, I do not feel confident that I could explain to municipal or national police just what my status is, and just what is my relationship to The Wife.  I mean, we’re not even exactly a same-sex couple — yes, we are mostly, and I guess legally.  But trying to explain that we’re still married even though one of us changed sex… I don’t know enough Spanish to know where to begin.

The good news is that we had neither legal nor medical difficulties, and there was no need to try to explain anything.  I hate to think what might have happened if I’d had medical problems in Cancun the way Erin Vaught had them in Muncie, Indiana, in July, 2010.  That’s why I was anxious.

Posted in AutoBiog | 1 Comment »

22 November 2011 by kathleen.

50 years — that’s how long it’s been since I graduated from the 8th grade at an Ursuline-run Catholic school in Euclid, Ohio. A few hard-working people put together the reunion, even though most people don’t bother with grade school reunions.

I had been reluctant to attend because of the reputation that the Catholic church has toward transsexuality, but my fears were groundless. Regardless of the official position, I was welcomed and treated respectfully. A few of my former classmates didn’t want to talk to me at all, but most were willing to exchange social pleasantries and swap biographies. Several people complimented my courage.

I was surprised how many people looked similar to what I remembered from 50 years ago. They were 13 or 14 years old when I last saw them, but some facial features seemed to be unchanging.

I visited my cousin and a high school friend on the trip, too. In the months leading up the the event, I felt a need to attend — not for them, but for me. A year and a half ago my high school had a 45th reunion; it would have been only 15 months after my surgery.  I wasn’t ready then, and I didn’t attend.

This time, nearly 4 years after my transition, going back felt right; I felt ready and in need of closure. I’m glad I went, for I have a sense that the early chapters of my life are now closed: I can let them go.

Posted in AutoBiog | 1 Comment »

13 November 2011 by kathleen.

I’ve been on trans-dermal estrogen for about 4-1/2 years.  Because I was 60 years old when I started estrogen, my breasts have not grown as fast or as large as they would have if I’d started estrogen in my teens or twenties.

Instead of the sagging breasts of a woman in her 60’s, I have the pert booblets of a 15-year-old.  That is not a good thing for a woman my age.  In fact, when I went to the dermatologist for a skin cancer checkup two years ago, I had the distinct impression the horny old doctor looked more at my breasts than at any possibly-cancerous growths elsewhere on my skin.  No, he didn’t touch me inappropriately, but he sure looked a lot harder at some places than others.

So it’s not always a good thing to have pert booblets.  I will go bra-less around the house, but that’s about it.  For those of you who don’t have breasts yet, let me tell you that bras don’t only support the breasts, they also minimize the outline of the nipples under your blouse or tee-shirt.

Certainly when you’re trying to attract someone’s attention at a nightclub or party, visible nipples are a Good Thing.  But not when you’re raking leaves, or shopping for Thanksgiving dinner, or having a skin cancer screening.

Posted in AutoBiog, General MtF topics | 2 Comments »

8 November 2011 by kathleen.

About three weeks after my transition at work, I was driving alone to an evening event. I used my left turn signal and pulled into the left turn lane at a large intersection. A police car pulled up behind me.

I made my turn when the light changed, but I hadn’t gone 100 feet before the red and blue lights started flashing. I pulled into a parking lot, then got out my driver’s license and registration. I rolled down my window and handed them to the officer, a 30-ish male.

I had had my driver’s license changed to show my new name, but the dreaded ‘M’ was still on it. The registration, however, still had my former name. After looking over the documents, he asked me if this was my car. I said ‘yes’. Well, he said, the left rear turn signal was out, and I should get it repaired as soon as possible.

That was it. All done; no hassle, no summons, just get the signal fixed.

Whew! What a relief!

I went on my way, and so did he. I was still shaking a bit (for no reason, really), and started thinking back over what happened. That’s when I started to get mad. Were the police hassling me because I am transgendered? Why did he really stop me?  Was he curious what a tranny might look like?

Like you, I’ve heard a lot of stories about transpeople being busted for no reason at all, and in fact I’d been hassled plenty just a few weeks earlier.  The clerks at the motor vehicle office said I had to take off all makeup and earrings to get a photo for my license because there was an M on it. Oh, yeah — there was enough for me to get paranoid about.

So I did a slow boil for another mile or two, but then just before I got on the interstate, another idea came into my head: my guardian angel revealed to me that I was watched over that night. No, I didn’t hear any trumpets; nobody whispered in my ear; I didn’t hear voices.  I just started thinking it. My angel wanted me to know, that’s all: somebody was watching out for me. My transition was good, my existence as Kathleen was good, and my errand for the evening was good.

That’s one example of what I said last time, that distance from an event can make a big difference in one’s perception of it.

And by the way, I told this angel story to a police officer who actually worked in that precinct about the time the event occurred.  She promised to carry the story back to the precinct if she could. It’s a reminder that police — and all of us, really — can have unintended good effects.

Posted in AutoBiog | 1 Comment »

5 November 2011 by kathleen.

I started this blog about 2 years after my transition, and 6 months after my surgery.  I chose not to blog either my transition or my surgery day-by-day, but to discuss my experiences after a period of reflection.  Many blogs are in the day-by-day vein; that is a good thing, but I chose to do something different.  I’ve observed in my own life that a distance of as little as a week can make a huge difference in how I perceive an event and its effects.

Now, 4 years after transition, changes to my life are occurring more slowly.  Furthermore, my self-perception is congealing around being a woman — not as a broken man, and not as a used-to-be man.  As that has happened, being transgender has become less important.  I am “just me” more of the time.

For 10-15 years before I transitioned, becoming a woman was the most frequent focus of my thoughts.  From morning to night, it seemed that everything I saw, everything I heard, everything I did reminded me that I wanted to stop being a man.  What do I now that I have what I said I wanted?

For many people and many situations, the gratification of a desire simply leads to another desire, or maybe to the creation of another problem.  And it has been said that as soon as you eliminate the number 1 problem in your life, you automatically elevate problem number 2 — you never get rid of having “a biggest problem in my life”.  That is not quite what happened upon becoming a woman.  I am simply happier, all the time.  I still get annoyed, I still get angry, of course.  Problems temporarily get me down — but now, “down” only lasts over night and not for months at a time.

The net result for me is that my attention is now on living my life as a woman, taking care of the relationship with my partner, encouraging my creativity, and nurturing friendships with cis-gendered women.  I continue to sing the song of my gender, and to render it in my unique way.  The bad news for the blog is that I have less to say about transgender because being distinctly transgender is a smaller part of my life: I am free to be authentically me.

So that is why this blog is thinner than it was a year ago.  I am not yet ready to shut it down, but it may come to that some day.

Posted in AutoBiog, General MtF topics | 1 Comment »

4 August 2011 by kathleen.

I was walking at the mall this week with a woman I hadn’t spoken to before.  In response to her question about my husband, I replied that my partner was a woman, and that we’d been together 36 years.  She was OK with that, so I thought we’d made a good start.

We walked some more, and chatted about other things, one of which was her husband and his recently-diagnosed prostate cancer.   Well, I am outspoken about prostate cancer, and its relation to SRS.  This was not a topic on which I wished to remain silent, especially when she said something about a New Treatment (there’s always a new treatment!) that I was pretty sure was not physically possible.

Now what?  Since I’d already explained that I didn’t have a husband, the cleanest way to share knowledge with her was to out myself.  I did, a short while later, explaining that I needed to share information with her.  Looking back on it now, I suppose I could have made up a story about my “brother” or something, but that could have gotten complicated.

The information I wanted to share was the value of an real, live support group — not a computer forum or chat room.  When I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in early 2001, I attended some meetings at a local hospital: a group of men with prostate cancer.  I didn’t just get the stories the doctors wanted us to hear; I also learned how real people dealt with it, what treatments they had, or planned to have, what worked, what didn’t, etc.  One of those support organizations is US Too; another is Man to Man, but I couldn’t find a single, central website for them.

What I urged her to do for her husband was to encourage him to go to one of the support groups.  I give the same advice to you in case you know someone with prostate cancer, or should you be diagnosed with it yourself.

Posted in AutoBiog, Prostate cancer & SRS | 1 Comment »

29 July 2011 by kathleen.

I had the pleasure the other day of attending a luncheon meeting of the local chapter of the League of Women Voters (LWV).  My partner was facilitating a discussion of a book about education and the role of the states versus the federal government.  I am not (yet!) a member, but visitors were welcome.

This was also an opportunity for my partner to introduce me to the group.

So for me this was a double treat: I had the pleasure of dining with intelligent, charming peers, and my partner did me the honor of not only introducing me but explaining that I had been male when we were married 35 years ago.

Conversations at gatherings of men tend to establish who the dominant men are; that done, disagreement with the dominant men sets up a power struggle which is unlikely to accomplish anything.  I believe a saw a slightly different dynamic in play at the luncheon.

Several women demonstrated their importance, and sought respect because of it.  The emphasis was “Who I Am” not “Whether I Am Right”.  Does that make any sense as a explanation? This was a discussion, not a debate, and multiple views were accepted.  It was an altogether different and more accepting environment than I encountered when I was male.  I like it; I think I’ll join — or at least go back for a few more luncheons.

If you seek social opportunities, please consider the League.  One of these days I hope to attend a Red Hat Society luncheon.  When I do, I’ll surely blog it.

Posted in AutoBiog, Sex & Gender Roles | 3 Comments »