Mission (sort of) accomplished!
I just uploaded a video wherein I, shock of shocks, indulge in the sharing of a little of my personal thoughts on an issue or three of my transition. For a few reasons, I'm adjoining with that video, and all videos going forward, a corresponding journal entry. These videos of mine can be at times random and, I suspect, sporadic. I want to go into further detail and the written word just works better for me, degree in English and all that.
Here's the video first:
Watched it? Okay, awesome.
My friend who I talk about in this video is a wonderful and amazing person. He was my best friend in high school and much of college and is someone who I trust almost more than anyone. That being said we had a talk and I suspect it is a talk that many of you have had before. I thanked him for how supportive he has been but we both mutually accepted that there are limitations to his understanding of my circumstances, the most obvious of which is that he still misgenders me even though, as a super intelligent boy, he should know better. I can tell that some of this will always be hard for him. I try to joke about certain things most notably my newfound attraction toward men with little success. I thought it would be funny to assure him that he is only moderately more attractive to me now than he was the last time I saw him. He was kind of repulsed by this sort of talk and that... ah, it's hard. We used to be some comfortable with one another. I don't want things to be weird but weird things will be, says I in Yoda speak.
I know that his usage of male pronoun stems from habit but I also suspect it is a result of his desire for things to be as they were, a sentiment shared by more than one person I am either friends with or, uh, used to be friends with, shall we say. Mix that in with my own feelings of self doubt and you have a real recipe for 'woe is me'. I don't like feeling that way because it keeps me locked up in a house alone and resentful of others who aren't all gung ho about my struggling attempts at transition.
Something else happened while we were having our little walkabout in Manhattan. There was this guy sitting on a stoop (henceforth called "Stoop Kid" because I actually kind of liked "Hey, Arnold!") who was staring at me as we walked down the street. It wasn't a nice stare. It was a disgusted, "who the fuck do you think you are?" kind of stare. You know the one. You've gotten it before. Moving on. After we walked passed Stoop Kid, I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck. Finally, I whipped around. He still had that nasty face seemingly permanently screwed on. I looked back fiercely, stuck my neck out and was all "What? Go ahead. Fucking say it. I dare you." I didn't say these things, but, you know, body language. Stoop Kid got the point and we kept walking.
That's the way I like feeling. Defiant. Proud. Powerful. In that moment I had this strong sense that no one could keep me down. About five minutes later that feeling was completely blown when I realized that the humidity had melted my makeup, opened my pores, and exposed the fact that, well, the hair on my face is something I have not yet dealt with. Feeling like the bearded fucking lady I put my tail between my legs and struggled not to hide in shame.
That's a good summation of what my life is like now. This is what I want to show all of you. I'm sure I will eventually have a good cry and there will be a video some day where I'll sing songs of my breasts being breastly and about some boy hitting on me (wishful thinking and delusional). But this is the Lily that is the most honest and like myself: struggling but ready to face the challenges to come. I hope you'll join me and I hope I can help all of you as much as you have done me.
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5 comments:
Woah! I'm definitely going to be coming to your blog to watch your vids because I love the additional input. Charmin-hogger or not, I'm really enjoying what you're sharing. Thanks!
I loved your video, especially the last bit (bat?). After 12 years, I still have those moments where an instant can shatter me, and a moment's honest self-inquiry brought on by the instant tells me that of course I don't pass and that everyone must know (I'm having that moment now). It's not much of an answer, but I've come to an uneasy truce with myself - even if my fears are true (and of course I doubt my own emotional responses - it's a given for a recovering catholic transitioner), in the end it doesn't matter, because this is my only possible life now, and the old male shell has long since been shattered beyond repair. (I won't talk about Humpty-Dumpty because frankly, I don't have a lot of excitement in my life.) Getting back to the main point, as long as the gaper isn't out there with a pitchfork and a torch, I feel I'm doing okay. And I certainly don't want a gaper to be the one to push my self-esteem button, at least if I can stop myself from reacting.
I had a moment like yours with Stoop Guy once in Golden (the dark side of Boulder), at a pizza place in an old wood floored department store. He and his girl were at a table nook by the main window, and he stared at me all the way out the door, from the back of the place to the front. His eyes couldn't have been more hostile if they had been in the head of a boar. And he swiveled bodily to keep his eyes on me. I said something to my companion on the way through the door, and she, being the incredible woman she is (a 60s something therapist - my first - at the time and my good friend), ran around the sidewalk to the window. She stuck her face right into the glass just as he swiveled around the other way to stare at me some more. I have to say he got the shock of his life, because she was loudly calling "Hello!" to him and waving to him energetically from about 3 inches away. It made me feel great but didn't do anything for the self doubt, which lasted a while.
Nowadays, I don't see people doing that to me. I hope it's because there's nothing to see but a middle-aged, volume enhanced, woman, but maybe it's just been another coping mechanism not to see.
The moral of all this is that from my limited experience, doubts lie much closer to the skin for us than for many other people, but that most of the time, they are simply an annoying background to our daily life, like the whine of a mosquito.
I like your blog a lot. And I noticed the Charmin too - my brand! I'll be reading more!
First, let it be known that I am not a trannsexual... although I have transsexual friends both male to female and female to male... I'm a biological woman or whatever you'd call us menstruating girls...
But, that's not what I wanted to tell you... I wanted to say that although I obviously don't have the same issues you do, I have and do feel very insecure at times... Perhaps this is a special female trait? To feel powerful one minute and the next realize your hair's wrong, or your skirt's stuck in your underwear... what i'm trying to say is that even us girls from the start have major insecurities and so I connect to that and to me it is just another recognition of YOUR womanhood.
So sorry, writing is NOT my strongest asset as you may have noticed...
anyway, keep your head high because you have every right to be whoever you are and don't let any scumbag small headed stupid person make you feel otherwise just because you may not fit into their teeny tiny world view.
Bitsy,
Just came across your blog and vids today via Being T and gotta say you seem to be doing and saying great things - thanks and keep it up!
As to your question about how we deal with the everyday struggles of being trans in a mostly anti-trans world, I can only give you my only sometimes successful formula that may or may not be applicable to others:
self-confidence + time + DIY attitude + outlet for frustrations + not giving a shit what others think
I've been out and about fully as a woman for several years now and I certainly have my ups and downs with family, friends, coworkers, and the world in general, but I think confidence and not truly caring what others think are key traits I actively try to cultivate in myself (it's an endless struggle, of course).
In the end, for me at least, it has little to do with how I look or how well I "pass." I certainly know I do not “pass” out in the world a good portion of the time and I've come to accept that. I dress rather androgynously most of the time in jeans and T and no longer try so hard to adapt stereotypically feminine traits/mannerisms/modes of dress that really aren't who I am, simply to fit in.
This isn't to say, of course, that I don't desire to fit in and be fully accepted by others as the woman I know I am. But except those who transition as pre-teens, there will always be those who will "out" and or intentionally misgender even those who've been gifted with stereotypical feminine looks and body structure or lots of money to buy that structure. So beyond being aware of safety, which we all have to be cognizant of, why dwell on how others perceive us?
Besides, EVERYONE, not just we usually hyper-self-aware trans folk, have insecurities and bad days. Having doubts and days of depression where you feel like "a dude" isn't necessarily a bad thing - it's just a human thing that, hopefully, we can learn and grow stronger from as we all continue to discover our true selves.
Peace,
Dana
OMG, I have exactly the same kind of thing going on with one of my friends. In fact, I blogged about it today...(hint, click the piccie to check it out).
Like your friend, she relies on the "old habits are hard to break" argument, but that isn't it. I spent Saturday evening with some co-workers of mine - I'm out at work but still a month or two shy of presenting in the female role, so these are all people who until very recently only knew me as "Scott" - and yet they haven't missed a step in the transition. It's all proper pronouns and name usage and when one of their husbands did mess it up, three of the women were on him like Piranha and fresh meat. They even seamlessly moved me into their version of locker-room talk. And the feeling I came away with is that habits really aren't that hard to break.
The difference between the co-workers and my good friend is that the co-workers like the new version of me the same, or maybe even better, than the old. My friend is still hanging on to the old, and I think we both realize what a problem that is from our friendship.
Sorry about going on at length...I have more to say, but at this point, I think I better just make it a blog of my own. Thanks to Lori D. for pointing me here...I'll be adding this URL to my update page right this minute.
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