Being Claudia: Life lessons and musings from a 75-year-old transgender woman

Not because this 75-year-old woman was wearing a short skirt, revealing blouse and more than a dozen rings and bracelets.

Nor was I particularly interested that she had just bought a used Harley Davidson the previous day and rode it home.

Claudia fascinated me because she was a spirited, sweet and engaging woman who has spent her life trapped in the body of a man. How does someone of her generation survive the lifelong intense struggle on the inside, and hateful world on the outside?

So I met up with Claudia on a Saturday afternoon at Snug Harbor in Plaza Midwood. It was the day after the Bruce Jenner interview with Diane Sawyer.

“Did you see the Bruce Jenner interview?” She said just seconds after our initial greetings. “He told my life story.”

The Jenner interview was just one of the positive steps forward for the LGBT community.

This week, news broke that Charlotte and Mecklenburg County officials were now allowing transgendered people to use the bathrooms they are comfortable with in city and county-owned property.

These times are changing, indeed.

Claudia grew up in the Northeast and moved to Charlotte in the 1980s. For most of that time, she was forced to be a man because of her occupation — a home remodeler, woodworker and builder. She has since moved with her longtime girlfriend to a rural area just outside of Charlotte.

She wants to remain somewhat anonymous because coming out may affect her livelihood. However, that didn’t stop her from remembering some funny and sometimes poignant stories from her past.

To gain perspective on what it’s like being Claudia, I thought it would be best to let the stories speak for themselves.

So here goes–Claudia in her own words.

On dressing in girl’s clothes when she was 14:

I built this log cabin out in the woods when I was a kid and nobody knew where it was. I thought, this is the perfect hiding place. So I’d ride my bicycle out there with the women’s clothes and just put them on and walk around the woods. I did that for years. After a while, I kept the clothes in the cabin until somebody came across them. So I would then have to bury them under some brush and sometimes after it rained I’d go out there and good god, they stunk. But I put them on anyway. It made me feel so good. It’s the same thing Bruce said. There was nothing sexual about it. It just made me feel good.

On the similarities between Bruce and herself:

He became an athlete in order to cover his feelings. I did the same thing. I picked the craziest of sports—motorcycle racing. He got married many times, and I got married many times. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have fought this thing. I would have gone along with my feelings and become a woman a long time ago.

Bruce mentioned he was going to have a big glamour room. I thought, wow that’s what I wanted my whole life. I’ve been hiding things in boxes and basements—I still do.

On racing motorcycles:

I raced motorcycles my whole life, but the feelings never went away. I started racing when I was in the Navy in 1961. I raced flat track in Pennsylvania and New York state. I started out as a novice and made it to amateur status in Class C AMA, but didn’t go much farther than that. I tried Daytona, Watkins Glen, Coney Island. When I got too old to do the track stuff, I did cross country where you go through the woods as fast as you can go. I did that for 20 years.

I occasionally dressed up during this time. At night I would get dressed and venture out. I would go to the nearest city—Springfield, Mass—and I’d see the gay bars. I’d see the drag queens go in and out, but I never did.

On moving to Charlotte:

I moved to Charlotte for three reasons: The weather, NASCAR and a woman. I got married again—this is the fourth one—and it lasted about five years. There were no more after that. I live with a woman now—we have 10 acres outside of the city. She’s an artist and does her art and I do my woodworking.

On using women’s bathrooms:

Only once have I been banned from using a women’s restroom. It was 20 years ago at the TGI Fridays on Independence Boulevard. There was this young kid standing at the door of the bathroom telling me I can’t go in. I towered over him in my high heels and he was so scared. The manager had already decided that I wouldn’t be allowed to use the women’s restroom. I said to the kid,

“Do I look like a man to you?”

“You can’t come in here, I can’t let you in here,” he kept saying.

“I’m going to look pretty stupid going into the men’s restroom the way I’m dressed.”

“Still, you can’t come in here.”

“You know I could pick you up and lift you out of the way.”

He was shivering so much I felt sorry for him and went into the men’s restroom. That was the only time I’ve ever had a problem using restrooms in Charlotte.

On getting caught:

Once, I was in my workshop dressed up as Claudia doing my woodworking. Normally, I would keep the big doors shut in front. One day, I said, “I’m going to leave the door open.” So I got all dressed up and here comes a guy I worked with and he’s knocking on the window. I thought, oh God, I’m caught. He looked in the window and just turned around shaking his head. I said “I’ll be right out.” Ten minutes later I’m stripping everything off—rubbing the makeup off, the hair, taking off my girl clothes. But I forgot all about my fingernails. I had glue-on fingernails. I come out, and he doesn’t say anything. So I was helping him with a piece of board and he’s looking at my hands and I have red fingernail polish. I looked up at him, and I said “I guess I’m caught, huh?” And he said “Yeah.” So I had to explain it all to him, show him pictures. And he didn’t have a problem with it.

On hanging out with drag queens:

There used to be bar called Oleen’s on South Boulevard—one of the oldest drag bars around. It was where the Dunkin Donuts is now next to the firehouse. The firemen used to come out and hoot and holler as we would walk in and out and we do our gestures to them. It was fun. The drag queens are the ones who taught me how to do make up. I wasn’t a drag queen, but I would occasionally do shows with them. I enjoyed them because I was me.