Me, at a Healthy Weight, Yay!

The above picture might be what I look like on the beach in public this summer, so I am assuming it’s OK to post here.

I used to have a problem with my weight. I was within a very few pounds of being officially fat. Today, I hopped on the scale and I weigh less than I have in probably 20 years … less than 180 pounds!!

This is good for a 6′ tall chick. And the weight came off gradually, which is perfect.


Yay for the DSM V!!

Scientists have shown that girls like me have a genetic condition, not a mental-health problem. That good news for me, and girls like me. Eventually, word will get around, and that’s good.

The previous premise, that girls like me have a screw loose, made for a very unpleasant situation. I bought into it. I was always making deprecating comments about my lack of mental health. It was a huge relief to learn I’m not crazy, I just have a genetic anomaly.

Nicer yet is that version 5 of the Diagnostic and Statistic Manual (DSM V) recognizes this situation, formally. The DSM is the official standard for mental health diagnoses in the field of psychology in the US.

I saw my first copy of the DSM V book today. Yay!

Being Chivalrous to the Lady

My businesses are struggling, so I’m working until 3 a.m. most days even though my days often start at 10 a.m. or earlier. I don’t really wanna make time for putting on make-up.

Females tend to go by subtle social cues such as how I walk, and that show the brain wiring, and by that standard (that I agree with) I’m female. About 80% of the girls pick up on that.

Guys tend to go by visual cues such as the shape of the bones in my face, and by that standard, I’m male. (Not that I agree with that standard). Even so, about 10% of guys manage to figure out I’m female.

Heck, maybe I should just wear a frilly pink dress and help them with that. The thing is, I work on cars a lot, so I tend to dress in jeans, t-shirts and overalls, and it’s hard to look extra girly in those.

Of the remaining 90% some are hesitant. And yet, it’s enough to where even some of the on-the-fence-initially gentlemen “get it.” You’d think the used-car-parts business isn’t the pinnacle of cultural sensitivity and you’d probably be right. But, yesterday when I showed up at a used-car-parts business the guys were extra nice to me in a way nobody ever was when I looked more-male, and in a way that folks tend to act when being nice to pretty girls.

I was carrying a heavy tool box and someone went to get me a wagon, for my convenience. It was just a small gesture, but I loved it.

I could get used to this. 🙂

Is Life Harder as a T-Girl?

For context: I manage my own tiny empire of small businesses, all of which were in dire financial straits before I transitioned, and a year later they still are, but no worse, and arguably better.

* * *

Many of my business relationships are better even though people are aware I’m a transgender girl. These relationships range culturally from people who buy used auto parts to those who buy custom database software. My staff and long-term clients and family have worked through their issues with my transition. I’ve been warned by many that the roof would cave in when folks find out that I’m a transgender girl, and with each self-outing I’d dread the relationship ending, and every time it hasn’t (though in a few cases, it required some candor and reasoning). With genetically integrated females, the business relationships are now vastly warmer and more collaborative, and with males I generally feel … almost as if I’m protected. Most men are much nicer to me now.

Personally, I feel so much happier now that I live as the girl I am. I’m vastly more healthy, energized and productive … in contrast, I was depressed about the male image in the mirror, a bit more than a year ago.

* * *

I’m also friends with many transgender girls nowadays, and I can see how the process can psychologically be a downward spiral to where the only option she thinks she’s professionally good for is escorting, and even in that context, there are downward spirals that get worse and worse.

I also have bad days and I sometimes still feel overwhelmed and it gets to me, at least enough to where I relate to where the downward spiral would go and what it would feel like. I’ve been in a store where some customers loudly remarked about the freak show and commiserated with the folks behind the counter because they were stuck there and had to deal with me whereas the customers were free to leave. So, yes, it’s hard. In the many, many places where bigoted people can close the doors, those doors are now closed to me.

* * *

For many girls like me, is it a struggle and escorting might well the most viable way and not a fun choice? Yes. I have had weeks in which I either got at least a few stripper or escorting gigs or I’d be bouncing checks, and in weeks like that, every time-waster is a source of huge frustration.

As an example, I cleared my entire late-night schedule for one gentleman who was going to meet me at 11 p.m. or so. I was ready (which takes me a couple of hours). I waited and waited. At a few minutes after midnight, he finally contacted me to come over, but then conveyed he wanted the entire interaction to be free of charge. If he were represented by a voodoo doll that night, I’d have made it look like a porcupine.

At the bottom of the cash flow pecking order, life can be damn hard. Nowadays, my days begin mid-morning and end at 3 or 4 a.m. and in spite of working so hard, I’m still barely making it, cash flow wise.

* * *

But, dammit, I’m going to keep struggling until I make it and to where escorting is purely for fun. And if I can make it, probably most girls can. In the end, whether or not a person makes it comes down to volition — choosing to be too stubborn to give up — ever.

And compared to that unstoppable force, however hard the journey is, and how many the obstacles are … that really becomes irrelevant.


A Nice Little Cultural Victory

Today, I was going to work in my car business. I expected to lie under cars and generally be a mess, and I was way behind schedule.  So, I put on zero make-up.

I ended up at an oil change place in a very small town in rural Nevada, and even so I was treated super-nicely.  The gentleman offered to help carry something for me, referred to me with the female pronoun, etc.  It was SO nice … especially since this happened with me wearing no make-up and not particularly feminine clothing, and no cleavage.

I know that I don’t look 100% female so in case he had any doubts, I told him I’m a strange mix of male and female, but basically female, and that he had handled it perfectly, and I thanked him for that.

I like being a girl anyway, but it’s nice when the rest of the planet catches on too.