I was out recently at my friends party, which had a lot of people I didn’t know, she asked if she should be correcting people who where reading me as female, she said.
I’ve seen that look in your eyes when you are trying not to show that you have just been kicked in the guts.
Did I mention she has an amazing way with words, that was just so right, so true it grabbed me. I am, in some respects so fucking nice, so fucking wilting, I let people walk all over me, I am to scared of my monstrous that I wont fucking ask for people to refer to me with something that doesn’t make me flinch. I act like pronouns aren’t a big deal because I don’t want them to be a big deal, but they are, and they not because of what they are, but because of what they symbolise.
“She” is that reminder that everyone else in the world see me differently than I see myself, “She” hurts because it remind me that I am still up for debate. The link is about being queer but there are plenty of invited speakers who claim that trans people don’t exist, or shouldn’t exist.
“She” is all those things, so maybe “She” isn’t being kicked in the stomach, maybe “she” is being hit on a bruise, it wouldn’t hurt a cis person, because they haven’t had been kicked there already.
It doesn’t need to be intentional, one can hug broken ribs with the best of intentions.
So I am over thinking things, I am always over thinking things. I feel that in this world, as gender queer/non binary person you pretty much have to pick a gender, more or less, to exist, I work in a customer facing job, I don’t get to tell my customers about non binary pronouns, realistically I can medically transition and deal with being gendered male or I can not and deal with being gendered female. That doesn’t seem very radical, but I like eating and living in doors, and that means keeping my job.
Having stepped back and reconsidered medical transition I am thinking about my long term prospects of living as female and… So I was at an event last night, I choose not to out myself, well I guess I didn’t and so I was, in everyone elses mind (except for the friend I was with) assumed I was cis female. Which is not a bad guess, I currently look like a pimply dyke most of the way, I was happy at one point to read as queers.
There where several moments which where deeply uncomfortable, lots of jokes about being women. The kinda casual boding of women with women that leaves me feeling like some weird alien gate crasher. At one point I was naked on a table (this was a demonstration I was being a model) I had a women* look at my genitals and say “nope, no penis” Gah. It was a great night but right then I wanted to run and hide.
So what the hell do I do, I don’t want to spend my whole life outing myself, explaining over and over again what I mean by gender queer, it’s dull, educating people is boring and I have better things to do, and I feel like if I don’t further transtion I will be considered fake or mad or attention seeking by my cis freinds. But it hurts, I have no idea how to stop it hurting.
I feel like there is no way out, like their isn’t room in this world for people like me and I have no idea how to make space in the world for me, I can talk about the big issues, about passports, and medical services, about jobs and housing, but I have no idea how to make a world where I feel ok.
Passing or being passed:
Passing tends to mean two different things, because we mix them up in the boarder society, one which I will refer to on this blog as being read as $gender means that your internal view of your gender is being understood by those around you, ie a trans women who is seen by people as a women is being correctly read.
read as cis: that is, that a person is being considered n0n trans (because that is what cis is, it’s the Latin opposite of trans), this is what people often mean when they meet a passing trans person, because it is assumed that the only kind of (wo)man is a cis (wo)man therefore someone must look not trans to be read as (fe)male. This differentiation is important because it allows us to talk, for binary gendered folk about cis being a type of (wo) man and not what (wo)man are.
Many different things depending who is talking, everything from not telling anyone, to not mentioning it at work, or outside particular people. Trans people, because we are considered weird/freaks/inauthentic, are considered to be lying if we don’t yell from the roof tops, if we could have left anyone assuming that we are like them like you know, real people.
There is occasionally shit on both sides of the stealth/out debate which pretty much boils down to “trans, I’m doing it right, you are doing it wrong” Calpernia Addams talks about receiving unsolicited advice from stealth trans people who feel that she should be stealth.
These people need to be hit with a haddock. (hat tip to Dw3t-Hthr)
And there are definly activist within the trans community who think that everyone should be out, living for the cause 24/7 and you must be self hating if you are stealth because what else that stealth would cause you to try to avoid other people’s shit.
These people should also be hit with a haddock.
For myself, I think I will probably never be totally out, as in everyone ever knows, or totally stealth.
I am not out at work, this to some people makes me stealth (abit as a cis women) I am not out to my extended family, in both case the cause is exactly the same, I know I would still be misgendered and I would have to become everyone debating partner, and I would get to hear everyone and I do mean everyones view on the construction of gender, I am sure someone would assume that I mean I was one of those transSEXual chicks with dicks they totally don’t admit to wanking over, not worth the stress.
On the other hand, non of the surgeries I am interested in will allow to to pass as cis for sex, so as long as I don’t want to be celibate I am going to have to be out to my partners, and if I am not more openly out in my social group I will run the risk of being outed by a partner or an ex.
I don’t owe being out, or closeted to anyone, and I intend to continue to do what suits me.