Good things come in threes. So do bad things. With that in mind, use your eyes to make the following three things more fun!
1) In this modern day and age, there is much importance concerning social media and the use thereof. Announcements targeted toward a wide audience may be safely shared through that book of faces all the kids are on about. To that end and speaking of which, I felt tired/angry/bored the other day, and now my name on that crazy thing is now more appropriate. It’s not official all the way, mostly because I have no idea for a middle name (well, I have a little idea, but that’s not important) but the first and last are hopefully what I will be changing it to. So far, no one has defriended me or sent weird messages asking who I am. Which is good, as I am pretty sure this isn’t much of a surprise to anyone.
2) I have recently had occasion to be around other trans folks in real life, which served to perpetuate the perceived standard set by the trans folks on various interweb place things. I had hoped that those I read about on my screen were an exception and that most trans folks, when surrounded by their own kind, so to speak, would be happy and free. So far, with my limited sample size though, we seem to be, on the whole, a pretty depressed and mopey bunch.
Happy trans people sure do seem rare, which seems pretty strange to me. We (as trans people) have spent the overwhelming majority of our lives in the wrong body, adhering to the wrong gender standards, and learning about the world from the opposite angle than how we feel we should learn. It is overwhelming at times to think about one’s own changing role, not just socially, but psychologically as well, but is there really no joy in being on the path to feel better? Are there really no upsides to starting on the path of transition to help us be ourselves? Can there be no positives?
I can understand being bereft of happiness if they have not started getting their letter or begun HRT, I guess, because they know they are going to probably have to jump through a million arbitrary hoops to get the care they need. It seems that those even past those gatekeepers and past that battery of initial tests of all sorts and past any other obstacle are still depressed. It’s like a community bound by suffering where any deviation from the commonality of ‘being trans is terrible’ means that you aren’t real trans.
I read once that there is nothing positive about being trans, as all of the trans person’s experiences and growths and future are subtractive from a cis person’s life. This, to me, makes sense only in that it is a flimsy argument used as a reason to continue to be depressed for fear of being happy. If, say, a transwoman feels that their existence is a subpar version of a ciswoman, then the transwoman will find reasons to feel that way. Of course, transwomen do not grow up as female, and they never will have periods or experience child birth, and they haven’t learned how to be a female over time. Basically, using the right criteria and definitions, one can convince themselves of pretty much anything.
If a trans person feels that their life is subtractive, fine, but I do not feel that way. I did not grow up as female. I was initially forced into a boy role by forces outside of myself and I continued to force that role on myself as long as I could. I mean, yes, it is the case that I have to learn a new psychosocial role, but why would I see that as a detriment? Transitioning is an adventure that not many folks are able to go on, mostly because most never feel that necessity. So, why can’t we, as we are faced with a surprisingly difficult yet amazingly rewarding path, see the value and joy and uniqueness of transition?
Look, I left the boy side because it made me remarkably depressed. I left because it was wrong. I left because it would have killed me had I continued. To that end, I sure as heck am not leaving the boy side to go over to the girl side just to feel the same way as I did back then. It’s true that there are parts of the female experience I will never ever be able to experience first hand. I will face rather unique challenges as a transwoman that ciswomen will never know. I will have a very interesting life story, but really, isn’t that the point?
Life is a series of challenges, and we don’t need to add to those challenges by defining ourselves as some fraction of what we want to be. If a trans person has been brave enough to admit they are trans, begin the transitioning process, and come out to people as trans or even as their true gender, why can’t so many of them be brave enough to be happy? It’s not our responsibility to others to be happy and proud. It’s our responsibility to ourselves.
3) Passing, for most trans people, is a pretty big deal. I mean, that makes sense, right? If one’s hormone regimen or surgical history does not allow them to blend into the background as their true sex, then perhaps, dear reader, you can see how that might be somewhat bad for psychological health. If a transwoman, despite their medical treatments, is not seen as a ciswoman, then it can be easy for them to say to themselves that they have failed at transition. Of course, passing or not passing alone does not determine whether or not their transition was a failure, but it sure can make it seem that way.
Back in the Dark Ages, I used to claim I was the luckiest boy in the world. Well, that, as it turns out was only half true. I am fantastically lucky, but I am also a girl, which more or less counters the idea of boy. So, as the luckiest girl in the world (or at least in the top five or so) I have had no problems passing. Even when my voice is crappy and even when I cross my legs the wrong way, it doesn’t seem to matter. I just blend in. I have had no negative attention (yet) and the worst attention I’ve ever had was simple neutrality.
I have not endured the hostile stares nor awkward questions about my genitals from strangers. I suppose I got lucky by having exceptionally sensitive estrogen receptors, which has led to a lot of positive growth and change really fast. I suppose it could be that I have picked up on a lot of the appropriate mannerisms in the last four months. I suppose it could also be my keen fashion sense. Honestly, it’s probably fitting comfortably into a 36D. Yeah, that’s probably the big thing right there.
Phew! Those are a lot of words! Also, why is it that when someone comes out as trans, a lot of previously taboo subjects suddenly become just fine to talk about. Weird, huh? Anyway, next entry I won’t even mention the word penis at all. Of course, you know as well as I do that is a fib.
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