Transgender Rants #1
Jan. 2nd, 2019 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blackcoffeeanddarknightsContent warning: I talk about transphobia and reference the use of slurs, which could be harmful or unpleasant for some of ya'll. Use your own judgment before diving into this.
Also: it's important to note that I have a very happy, very healthy life. I have a stable job, I have a good apartment, and I have several close friends (far and near) and a boyfriend I adore, and who adores me. I think it's important that you go into this knowing that, because so often, people assume that trans people suffer constantly.
But I am trans, and I am thriving, and I am growing. What you're about to read is a very, very small part of my life, and only worth talking about because I'm thinking about it tonight and need to vent.
So there's another transgender gal at work, who'll occasionally try to talk with me about trans-things; hrt and electrolysis and such. I don't really know how to reply, truthfully; I consider myself to have finished transitioning a year ago (by which, I mean all the things I wanted changed were changed a year ago).
Which makes talking about being trans different; at this point, navigating sexism is (and has been for over a year now) a much greater factor in my day-to-day than transphobia or transitioning.
Related; I remember that once a month or two ago, I had a (different) transgender woman tell me my hormones were doing "so, so well". Which was obnoxious because she ended up outing me to one of my coworkers, and also kind of a weird statement to make? Like... my hormones are doing what hormones do. At this point, I literally never think about them.
~But again, I consider my body to be "good enough", and I'm not working to change it. Like. I'm trans. My body will literally never be cis, and I don't think it's healthy for me to obsess about that, beyond doing what I need to do to treat dysphoria. That perspective changes the way I talk and think about myself.
Also, it makes me so anxious to have trans people talk with me about trans things at my workplace; most cis people assume I'm one of them, and that assumption makes my life much easier to navigate. I'm not really sure how to communicate that to other trans people without outing myself to the cis around me, so usually I just... change the subject.
I got really angry about it initially- I didn't understand why trans people were commenting on my transness at all, and I was really upset they were bringing it up. I guess I kind of assumed that most trans people had the same perspective that I did; that survival entailed keeping your head down as much as possible.
But, like... I've also worked in an environment where being outed as trans could have been physically dangerous to me. I've had a lot of cisgender men hit on me at work, and my last workplace was deeply sexist and deeply homophobic and almost certainly deeply transphobic, and I know on some level that advertising my transness would- at the very least- have resulted in my being called slurs.
I mean, they called the two (2) gay men that worked there f**s fairly regularly, and I had no desire to be known as the f*cking t**n*y in the dish pit.
...Which is probably why I get so scared when my transness is called attention to. Without wanting to sound weak, it leaves me shaking. There are consequences for being outed. Being outed to the wrong person could hurt me. There are people out there that want to hurt me.
I feel like if you aren't exposed to that, it becomes easier to be open about being trans, because- you know- what's the big deal? Fuck the haters, right? Haha your hormones are doing so well :))))
But at the same time- at the same time- they must experience, or have experiences with, transphobia. Hell, I went to a fairly liberal college and I experienced transphobia. All trans people do. So why the flippancy? Why the lack of caution? What am I missing?
Sometimes I think maybe I'm broken, and my need for caution is 6X what it needs to be. I feel like I'm exactly what I've been told- delusional, full of worries and desires and fear that aren't even real. Maybe I'm imagining the level of danger, or maybe it's just my history, or maybe no one's actually transphobic and I was imagining the whole thing the entire time.
*
On a related note, my boyfriend carries a gun. He's licensed for it; we live near Idaho, and it's part of the culture. A lot of people own guns. And God forgive me, but I feel so much safer walking around with him. I worry less about having someone scream at me, or try to offer me money for sex, or having them follow me home (which are all things that have happened when I've walked around by myself- sometimes in the middle of the day).
And sometimes, I feel so alienated from LGBT spaces; I am weak, and my desire for safety overrides any moral qualms I have about guns, any moral duty I have to out myself, and- most relevant- any desire I have to even consider talking about being trans where cis people might overhear. And I wish I could communicate that sometimes, and that people- cis and trans- took my desire to protect me seriously.
But they don't. So I keep my mouth shut, I smile, and I change the subject whenever I need to. It's not doing anything for solidarity, but it does a lot for my sense of well being.
Also: it's important to note that I have a very happy, very healthy life. I have a stable job, I have a good apartment, and I have several close friends (far and near) and a boyfriend I adore, and who adores me. I think it's important that you go into this knowing that, because so often, people assume that trans people suffer constantly.
But I am trans, and I am thriving, and I am growing. What you're about to read is a very, very small part of my life, and only worth talking about because I'm thinking about it tonight and need to vent.
So there's another transgender gal at work, who'll occasionally try to talk with me about trans-things; hrt and electrolysis and such. I don't really know how to reply, truthfully; I consider myself to have finished transitioning a year ago (by which, I mean all the things I wanted changed were changed a year ago).
Which makes talking about being trans different; at this point, navigating sexism is (and has been for over a year now) a much greater factor in my day-to-day than transphobia or transitioning.
Related; I remember that once a month or two ago, I had a (different) transgender woman tell me my hormones were doing "so, so well". Which was obnoxious because she ended up outing me to one of my coworkers, and also kind of a weird statement to make? Like... my hormones are doing what hormones do. At this point, I literally never think about them.
~But again, I consider my body to be "good enough", and I'm not working to change it. Like. I'm trans. My body will literally never be cis, and I don't think it's healthy for me to obsess about that, beyond doing what I need to do to treat dysphoria. That perspective changes the way I talk and think about myself.
Also, it makes me so anxious to have trans people talk with me about trans things at my workplace; most cis people assume I'm one of them, and that assumption makes my life much easier to navigate. I'm not really sure how to communicate that to other trans people without outing myself to the cis around me, so usually I just... change the subject.
I got really angry about it initially- I didn't understand why trans people were commenting on my transness at all, and I was really upset they were bringing it up. I guess I kind of assumed that most trans people had the same perspective that I did; that survival entailed keeping your head down as much as possible.
But, like... I've also worked in an environment where being outed as trans could have been physically dangerous to me. I've had a lot of cisgender men hit on me at work, and my last workplace was deeply sexist and deeply homophobic and almost certainly deeply transphobic, and I know on some level that advertising my transness would- at the very least- have resulted in my being called slurs.
I mean, they called the two (2) gay men that worked there f**s fairly regularly, and I had no desire to be known as the f*cking t**n*y in the dish pit.
...Which is probably why I get so scared when my transness is called attention to. Without wanting to sound weak, it leaves me shaking. There are consequences for being outed. Being outed to the wrong person could hurt me. There are people out there that want to hurt me.
I feel like if you aren't exposed to that, it becomes easier to be open about being trans, because- you know- what's the big deal? Fuck the haters, right? Haha your hormones are doing so well :))))
But at the same time- at the same time- they must experience, or have experiences with, transphobia. Hell, I went to a fairly liberal college and I experienced transphobia. All trans people do. So why the flippancy? Why the lack of caution? What am I missing?
Sometimes I think maybe I'm broken, and my need for caution is 6X what it needs to be. I feel like I'm exactly what I've been told- delusional, full of worries and desires and fear that aren't even real. Maybe I'm imagining the level of danger, or maybe it's just my history, or maybe no one's actually transphobic and I was imagining the whole thing the entire time.
*
On a related note, my boyfriend carries a gun. He's licensed for it; we live near Idaho, and it's part of the culture. A lot of people own guns. And God forgive me, but I feel so much safer walking around with him. I worry less about having someone scream at me, or try to offer me money for sex, or having them follow me home (which are all things that have happened when I've walked around by myself- sometimes in the middle of the day).
And sometimes, I feel so alienated from LGBT spaces; I am weak, and my desire for safety overrides any moral qualms I have about guns, any moral duty I have to out myself, and- most relevant- any desire I have to even consider talking about being trans where cis people might overhear. And I wish I could communicate that sometimes, and that people- cis and trans- took my desire to protect me seriously.
But they don't. So I keep my mouth shut, I smile, and I change the subject whenever I need to. It's not doing anything for solidarity, but it does a lot for my sense of well being.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-03 01:22 pm (UTC)