So, I know it’s been a long time…been getting ready for school, trying to figure out how to balance my work schedule with my education but it just didn’t work out so I had to quit 😦 Too bad, it was a pretty decent job as far as pay and benefits go, but to be honest…I feel like there was a lot of resentment there, too. From the second I came in, I knew things would be a challenge. My name-tag had been hidden from me and people were starting to say all sorts of things. There was a male colleague who, from what I was told, found me attractive. That’s nothing out of the ordinary as most males do (not trying to sound snobby or pretentious, it just is what it is). He was friends with this older woman who considered herself VERY fashionable and who frequented drag-shows often, so she fancied herself an expert on all things drag (and of course, being the “genius” she was she lumped trans-people in with drag queens). I was never anything more than friendly with this fellow, as I was to everyone at work, because I already have a boyfriend I care about dearly and just never even considered any other possibility, but this cougar felt intimidated. I knew it, my friend at work knew it…and so she used her “insider knowledge” to pull a Nancy Drew and deduce I was trans. A fact she spread around to everyone. To that I have one thing to say. What the f*ck is wrong with you?! Do you really feel so insecure at your advanced age, that you have to try and make an already insecure person (because let’s face it, as transsexuals, we’re all typically very insecure people) feel even worse about herself. After her antics, I felt as though I was being scrutinized by everyone, but especially the males in the workplace. This made me self-conscious and severely depressed. That’s why I’m kinda glad I’m out of there. I never confronted this woman about what I knew she did. But that’s just what she wanted I’m sure…it would prove all her allegations to be true, validating her little rumor and at the same time it would make me lose my composure and appear just as freakish and out-of-control as she would have our co-workers believe I was. So I’m glad I didn’t.
Now that I’m out of that situation, you might think, well it’s sure to get better. To which I say, it surely won’t! Not to be pessimistic, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve grown beyond the blind optimism of my tween years. There are always going to be dipshits out there like this pruny-faced cougar b*tch. Life never gets simpler, you just get tougher. You just have to roll with the punches and, above all, remain COOL and appear confident! I wanted to punch the ugly off her mug so many times you would not believe, but our strength as transsexuals is our ability to endure and persevere. So, my sisters…if you’re being persecuted, or made fun of, or vexed, or tortured, just be calm and carry on, as the British say. I envisioned myself to be a beautiful, ice-cold river…frozen in place, immovable, graceful, majestic. A true lady. I’m so tired of hearing the term “real woman,” and it’s usually something whispered because most of the people who refer to us as “fake women” have neither the guts nor the courtesy to overtly confront us with their stupidity. A real woman is someone who chases their dreams, who sees what’s wrong with a situation and does something to remedy it, a real woman has decency and tact and is so much more than a body part or the ability to shoot out a kid. A real woman doesn’t need to lash out at a perfect stranger because she is intimidated by her. A real woman has class and integrity and in all those respects, I am a real woman and so are many of my trans-contemporaries. I find it comical how these alleged supporters of our community are sometimes the very same people who want to see you as an individual trans-woman fall to the floor so they can raise a leg over you. It’s like, “you can be a woman…so long as you’re not prettier or better-dressed or more desirable than me…you must remain obviously male-looking and freakish so that I know I’m still above you and if you aren’t those things, well rest assured I’ll find something about you that is still male and harp on it so that others know you’re a shim-sham! Wahahaha!” In my case, I look feminine, I tend to dress nicely (sometimes a bit gaudy, but whatever) and many people think I’m an attractive girl. My voice however, is my one weak point. There’s not too much you can do about your voice but exercise it. Singing high notes, visualizing it going above a pencil or some other object you hold horizontally next to your lips. Not smoking. But all those things can’t undo the damage male puberty does to a young transwoman’s vocal chords. It’s just there and you have to deal with it. So, now as I start school again the one thing I fear and dread more than anything is the public speaking, esp. the introductions. I always feel awkward doing that because I feel like everyone can tell, and I’ve realized now that some people will be able to. And that’s alright. Because even though we have deep voices or some other traits that may identify us as transsexuals…we are women, we are ladies, we are REAL. Our struggle is real and so are we and that’s something no amount of slander or hate can take away. Something to leave you all with, until next time (I promise I’ll blog more and now I can since I have no job, ha!) stealth and passing isn’t nearly as important as being comfortable with yourself. At the end of the day, when the clothes and makeup are off…you need to be able to look in that mirror and like what you see. So don’t focus on your short-comings (or what you view as short-comings) view the positive, love yourself, love your struggle, for it made you who you are, and screw the dipshits…they’re not even worth the effort. Pass for yourself, not for others! 🙂
Hi there, so glad you’re here…on to my memoirs. I was alone, unemployed and going through a second puberty by way of transition and my ridiculous hormonal spikes and dips. Which led me to on-line dating. Now, as a trans-woman this is your safest bet to find someone. The internet grants a level of security that real-life encounters can’t. So…being a young and pretty trans-girl; silly, desiring attention and not knowing any better, I posted my pics on a dating website for trans-people. And of course, they were sexy. Not nudies by any means! But as I recall, in one picture (that my grandmother took) I was sprawled out across my bed wearing black vinyl pants with a red tube top and I thought I was just the bee’s knees. And men, visual creatures that they are with hardly any regard to what constitutes good/bad fashion, responded in kind. Before I knew it my date book was full and I was going out every other night with a new guy getting free meals and loads of attention. It was delightful. I was young, I was carefree and it was a way for me to distract myself. I wasn’t happy though. A lot of the men you meet who are interested in trans-women want us for one thing and one thing only, as is the case with biological women. Now, there are many men out there who are wonderful people intent on developing relationships that are full and all-encompassing, but there are twice as many who want you to act as their side-dish, dirty little secret, sugar baby or some lurid combination of all three. It’s embarrassing! No one wants to be treated like a freak, not worthy of simple little things most people take for granted in relationships, like meeting one another’s families. Mind you, I’m a very passable and very attractive transsexual woman (so I’ve been told anyway), but it still makes no difference, you can look like Megan Fox and still be treated as though you’re “less than” just because of what you are.
So when I finally met a man who was willing to put all that aside and just focus on me as a person, I jumped on him, but he was gay (despite his assurances that he was bisexual) and also immensely confused about pretty much every facet of his life, so it didn’t work out. After that, I began dating again…which is really just like picking through the garbage, isn’t it? I dated a cage fighter, a naval officer, a cop, all sorts of stereotypically macho guys, all good looking, all nice enough…but all for whatever reason eventually cut off. In the case of the cage fighter, he wanted a f*ck buddy which he could talk to whenever the need arose, in the case of the naval officer…well, he just couldn’t kiss…plus he was an alcoholic and he broke my car’s air conditioner vents by playing with them too much, and in the case of the cop he wanted a penis attached to a pretty woman. Which is what a lot of “admirers” want. It dehumanizes us and reduces us to a single body part. Seriously, if you want to suck on something that bad, buy yourself a lollipop. So, after much searching I gave up. And when I wasn’t looking, someone wrote me out of the blue requesting we meet up for coffee because I seemed cool from what he read on my MySpace profile (I know, I’m old right?!) and after that we met up. He hadn’t known I was trans and as it turned out that’s exactly what he was into. So a friendship formed, which later blossomed into a relationship and here I am four years later still with the same guy. We have our ups and downs like any couple…but above all he sees me as an individual, not a commodity and if you admirers out there reading this ever want to make it with a transsexual of any substance, then that’s really what it all boils down to.
Well. I have been remiss in keeping up with this blog YET. AGAIN. Go ahead, turn away from the screen. I am without excuse as usual. But srsly, this time I do kind of have a good excuse…or several excuses as the case may be. I’ve been working non-stop (extended hours to cover vacations), getting ready for my exciting return to school in the fall and coming this close to rabbit-kicking my financial aid advisor in the face because YES…SHE REALLY IS THAT FRUSTRATINGLY STUPID, I hit some old lady with my Suzuki (her car, not her person…just for clarity’s sake), and re-connected with my two long-lost cousins all while searching frantically for a new job which will be more flexible and mesh better with my school schedule. Crazy right? I know!
So I haven’t really had much of a chance to write about myself (which is odd, since that’s usually one of my most favorite things to do…I’m just joking ((but I’m not)) ). Anyway, amidst all this commotion, I must tell you my computer, which is quite old, and which can be likened to a senile, old fat person is STROKING OUT something FIERCE!! I can’t STAND it. I have to save up for a new computer…preferably something with a built-in camera or microphone so that I can do vlogs or podcasts or something to mix things up a bit and connect on a somewhat more intimate level with my readers. But what with my hitting-an-old-lady-with-my-sedan-incident, I might have to wait awhile before making such a purchase…so BEAR WITH ME, PUBLIC!!! I must tell you…being involved in a traffic accident (my first, mind you) brought on so many emotions and recollections. I luckily live in a state where I was able to get the gender on my license changed without having had any surgical procedures, but I remember the time before…when I bore the name and picture of a female on that license and had that “M” right beside it like a scarlet letter. Having to be petrified of being pulled over or daring to buy a drink because I might get carded were constant strains on my nerves, ever-present and ever-frightening. I was able to face this incident with a calmness which had eluded me back then, and it was comforting to know I’d jumped over that hurdle, but it also made me angry at how that hurdle was placed before me by DOUCHEBAGS who have nothing to do with my situation and probably have a very limited understanding of said situation. Sometimes I wish we, as transgendered brothers and sisters could just rise up against the “normals” and crush them beneath the raging tide of our combined anger. But then I realize that would probably just make them hate us more and get many of us killed or hurt…plus violence never solves anything (but conflict, ha). Either way! To my brothers and sisters out there facing that license issue, know you aren’t alone…we’ve all been there before. If you’re able to change it, do it FAST. If you’re too scared to go to the DMV and explain your situation (like I was), just swallow hard, ask a friend to come with you and muster up enough MOXIE to do it and get it over with. It really is worth it, don’t procrastinate. I know it sucks that we have to do this at all and lord knows it makes you want to slap a bitch, but sadly, this is the way things are now. Better than they were, but still worse than they could be.
I also wanted to briefly mention in this entry (and I want to do more with this later, so beware), one of my new-found favorite trans-related films. Iron Ladies and its sequel Iron Ladies 2. Wow, what can I say? It was a lovely experience. They’re both older films, and full of enough politically incorrect terms to upset the extreme Western LGBT activists, I’m sure. But honestly, it’s a fluff film and for what it is, it’s wonderful. It basically tells the story of a Thai all-male volleyball team comprised of flamboyantly gay men, cross-dressers, and a transsexual cabaret star. If you get a chance, check it out…I’m glad I did.
Well, dears…I guess it’s time for me to let you all go. But never fear, I’ll be back sooner than you think with a new entry in the fascinating novella (after-school special/infomercial?) that is my life.
Sorry I haven’t had a chance to update in a while, I’ve been super-busy with work and various other mundane activities that are hardly as fulfilling as this blog, so for that I must apologize. Now, where was I?
Oh yes…it was December of such and such year and I was working at a well-known department store as a cosmetics “expert.” Anyway, there was this bulldog of a lesbian (closeted, of course, and therefore quite nasty), who decided she hated me because I didn’t want to associate with her. There were two reasons for me not wanting to associate with her, 1) She was positively the crudest thing on two feet at that mall and 2) she always talked absolute garbage about my best friend at work. “Unacceptable!” I declared and henceforth never spoke to her except for the occasional “Hello.” Now, this pushed her to the limit and I also think the fact that I was by now very free and open about what I was doing (transitioning and all) kind of miffed her too, because she was adamant in her claims of being straight, though really it was quite obvious that she was anything but. My openness bothered her, as it bothers most people who are not open for whatever reason. Our openness is like a bright, shining, neon light that we’re flashing into their dim, dank, dingy closets. So…she hated me. And the feeling was reciprocated. One day, things boiled over when she tried rudely telling me what to do (she’d recently gotten promoted to a customer service rep, but that gave her no authority over me) when we were closing down the store and I told her I wasn’t intimidated by her or the little walkie-talkie she was issued, to which she replied that I walk around like a princess and should choke on my own dick. When she wasn’t promptly fired, I decided any business that retains employees who are capable of such low thinking don’t deserve to have me pushing $30 eyeliners and mascaras for them, so I walked out during my next scheduled shift. They tried in vain to get me back, but I’ve always been a woman of strong principles, and when something leaves a bad taste in my mouth, I refuse to just choke it down like most people.
Here I was, a new year beginning, a new me beginning and no job prospects in sight. In a way, though, looking back it was the best thing that could have happened at the time. Transitioning while on the job is very difficult and to be without the hassle of having to explain your motives to other people every five minutes or deal with constant harassment and strange looks is a blessing. The downside of unemployment though is boredom. And I was bored! So what did I do? I used the internet to fill my boredom. At first it was great, sleeping in, and wasting time, reading, writing, shopping; well, window shopping (as you might expect, since I abandoned my job I wasn’t privy to receiving unemployment benefits). Eventually though, it wasn’t enough. I was lonely since all my friends had jobs or school to keep them occupied and for most of the day I had the company of my cats and dog and that was it. My parents were a great emotional and financial support even giving me money for my hormones which I purchased via website (which is not recommended at all until you’ve seen a doctor and had all your levels checked, but back then I didn’t have that luxury). Still, I longed for fulfillment on a different level and that led me to on-line dating, which is arguably, the best way for transsexual women to meet men and the safest. However, the kind of men are open to interpretation as you’ll see in my next entry…
Ok…last entry (for those of you who didn’t read it, hmph) was about my self-imposed exile from beauty school…I know…heavy. So, to keep things breezy and delightful this entry is going to be light-hearted, useful to some of you (hopefully) and full of pictures! In case you either didn’t read the title or just didn’t get it (really?!) this entry is about the top 5 cosmetics that I simply can NOT live without. These are basically the things that I would use even if I were involved in a high-speed car chase and had to get going post-haste! I’d always find time to use these because they are THAT good. So, let’s get started.
This is my go-to foundation, concealer, primer, panacea, etc., etc. Not only is it a convenient size, it also has that opaque coverage that transwomen sorely need, especially when we’re still in the “shaving our faces” stage. This tiny stick provides coverage that is comparable to that of Dermablend, the foundation used to cover up burns and tattoos at half the price. It’s creamy, goes on smooth, and if and when you do decide to get your face hair lasered or electrolysis-ed off, you can dampen either your fingers or a make-up sponge and create a sheerer coverage. Just a few dots on the cheeks, chin, forehead, eyelids (as a primer before you put your eyeshadow on) and neck and you’re good to go. For even better results, finish with a setting powder or a mineral veil like the one offered by Bare Minerals. Max Factor was discontinued in the US for God-knows-whatever reason and I nearly had an aneurism right then and there…but luckily, the internet magically comes through yet again as the transwoman’s staunchest ally! So, buy some in your shade now, here!
Seriously, eyeliner is like f*ckin crack to me. I recall trying to use number 2 pencils when I was little to achieve the same brightening and defining effect my mom’s eyeliner had on her eyes to disastrous results, obviously. Eyeliner is really amazing in that it can change the shape of your eye, making them smaller, bigger, feline, almond-shaped, whatever you want. I usually line the upper lash line before putting my liquid liner over that, the upper waterline and the lower lash line from the outer corner of the eye to just below where your pupil is. The inner waterline I line with a white or light-gold liner to create a wide-eyed effect. But for beginners, this a very easy-to-wield pencil which goes on smooth and creates beautiful definition. Order here.
I love NYX because their colors are awesome, their prices are even awesomer and they’re just a pretty happening company. Anyway, this lip color is a new addition to my collection of NYX lipsticks, but has quickly become one of my favorites. It’s a neutral shade which means it goes with pretty much any color outfit and pretty much any skintone. Works for everyday looks, but can easily be turned into a nighttime shade with some heavier eye-makeup. Creamy texture with just enough shine to keep things fresh and interesting. Pucker up!
For girls with steady hands and some experience applying make-up, liquid liner can be a godsend. It defines and pops and it’s just beauty in a tube, honestly. You can do so much with it, dramatic looks, slight re-shaping, everything…only unlike eyepencils or kohls, liquid liner will not smudge or dissolve over time (especially if you use a primer beforehand). Make sure to close your eye when applying and allow a few seconds to dry completely before opening your eyes again or blinking. Walk that line girl!
One of the most affordable and effective mascaras I’ve come across. It’s just wonderful, two coats on the upper lashes, two on the lower and you’ll look like a total glamasaurus rex. It’s seriously amazing with or without any liner to back it up, and it’ll make lovely fans out of your lashes. Nothing says feminine like long, lustrous lashes. If you’re in a serious rush, just this, some foundation and lipgloss would be all you really need.
Well…I guess that’s it for now. I hope you all enjoyed my fluffy little list and I encourage you all to try the products I mentioned…just remember with cosmetics a little goes a long way, especially if you’re trying to pass in public. Stay tuned for the next entry…where I discuss my sordid love life. Well, it’s not that sordid.
So anyway, back to my life story. After I listened to my aunt’s husband’s drunken old cousin, I decided to beg my parents to enroll me in a cosmetology school because I thought that’s just what people like me were meant to do. How wrong I was! I was the only male in my class, though no one knew that until the scratchy-voiced, teacher-lady, Miss Martini called my name aloud. My long hair and tight pants made me look like a female to everyone in the room but that just made me seem colorful to the rest of the girls. Honestly, I just wanted to learn a trade and have something to fall back on and had been more or less misled into thinking hairstyling should be that trade but as usual, I was sidetracked by insecurity and fell into the “I must be a character in order to be liked” mental trap, so after realizing I had no hair styling aptitude whatsoever, I basically just absorbed everyone else’s expectations of me as a class clown and became the resident entertainer of the group. I stuck around because it was a place to socialize and make other people laugh with my antics, but hair was not my passion at all. I should have known this as I’d never felt a desire to do anyone’s hair, except my one Barbie doll’s, but even that was just limited to brushing.
One day, one of the older girls from the class above us decided she was going to use me for one of her hair assignments. At that point, my dark hair was halfway-past my back and I loved everything about it. I loved the freedom of finally having long hair after all the years of being forced into wearing my hair short. I loved running my fingers through it and flicking it back like I don’t know, some sort of sexy horse. Either way, I, as usual did what others wanted, not what I wanted and I let her cut my hair off…and like Samson, I felt the power drain from me with each falling lock. To me, that hair represented a semblance of femininity in a body that was still largely male-oriented, to see it fall before me shattered the early beginnings of my true self and caused me to once again assume a persona that others were more comfortable with. I’d been wearing girl clothes…but stopped after my hair was cut because of some of the girls’ comments and “suggestions” about what looked good. Who the fuck cared about what looked good? I wanted to look right! Right for me! But that was something I lacked the strength to express until some time later.
Eventually, I ran into some problems with one of the older ladies who attended the school. She was extremely large, balding, had a thick Brooklyn accent and wore white spandex stirrup-pants. She had been my first friend at the school, but quickly turned very jealous when I became friendly with two sisters who were also in our class and decided to go out to lunch with them instead one day. Anyway, the whole thing quickly snowballed into a very messy ordeal and that, coupled with my utter ineptitude and lack of interest in doing hair, led to me becoming a beauty school dropout. It was also around this time I met my first boyfriend…though that’s a story for later.