Sorry for the delay. I hate when I have this grand plan for a blog and then I get tired or busy and I don't get around to accomplishing what I wanted. This post actually didn't end how I wanted it to. I wanted to write about the dynamic of being a transgender parent/step-parent, but ended up settling on something completely different. That's not bad, though. This spoke to me more.
I was not openly gay or transgender in high school. I came out to my mom in the last couple months of my senior year. After always seeing myself as a male, I was able to put a word to the feelings I had. I could finally explain why I was attracted to women, but never AS a woman. I didn't even see myself as gay, but I was active in my schools's GSA group.
I didn't want to be an advocate, even after I came out and met other transgender people. It took probably three or four years for that seed to grow. I wanted to educate people and help others have the (mostly) positive reception I had when I came out. I didn't know what to do or how to do it, but it was a sort of passion.
That passion waned as I stopped chasing my transition. I had changed jobs, finally getting a little comfortable and letting my facial hair grow out just a little bit. Nothing like what it is today. I watched YouTube videos, but the news was usually bad or nonexistent. It was hard to get an accurate picture of what the community as a whole needed or was going through.
As the news shifted and started to report more transwomen of color being murdered, I had become more comfortable in my skin. I had participated in NoShave November and my mustache was coming in nicely. I was in a stable relationship and I was determined to reach just one person and let them know they weren't alone.
I joined a YouTube group of other transmen across the US and Canada. We each were assigned a day of the week and agreed upon a topic. It was great and I loved it. We were getting likes and new subscribers every week. We grew up. We went to college, got jobs, started hormones, moved...life happened and we started to fall off.
I tried to keep up with it, starting an Instagram and Twitter (because I was super active on those platforms at the time) and stay engaged, but even I fell off the horse. It was hard to be a role model when I myself had stalled once again is transitioning. I was planning on starting hormones, but I couldn't afford insurance. I also couldn't afford a therapist. Both were needed for my journey (mind you, all journeys are different) and I was stuck.
I let the group go and toyed with starting a blog, but it felt empty and I didn't know what to write about. I wanted to write about what it meant to redefine life, what it meant to define my position and my journey. In 2013, I changed my name and decided I was going forward and nothing could stop me.
The journey is always changing. It is something new every day. Some days, it's exciting and I feel really good. Other days, it's a struggle to even get out of bed. Some days, I want to be a huge activist and raise awareness and help cultivate a strong, inclusive community outside of our niché. Some days, I just want to stay in my lane and do me. That doesn't mean I don't want justice and equality for every living human being, it just means I don't have the fight to take care of more than myself. And that's ok.
A high school friend of mine recently reached out to me and asked if I would be willing to speak at her school. They're in the planning phases of a GSA and I think it's exciting. It's not just a chance for me to be a part of my community, it's also a push in the right direction. A push to keep going forward. I want to be a success, a role model for kids who don't have one or who are afraid of embracing their authentic selves. I cannot wait to start this new part of my journey.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Saturday, August 20, 2016
Phobia of Consequences
-takes a deep breath-
Transphobia isn't something that I've been in close contact with more than two or three times in my whole life. Living in central Oklahoma, I would think it would have been a more common occurrence, but I've really been blessed/lucky to be sheltered from this side of it. I've been confronted in the bathroom once, about two years ago, and made it out with minor issues. What people don't understand is that being transgender and being targeted can have instant negative consequences. I was shaken and my confidence dropped but, because I was loved and supported, I got through it fairly quickly. That experience couldn't prepare me for what I experienced the other day.
I overheard some guys talking about transgender celebrities. It seemed like a casual conversation, simply just a discussion of who is, who isn't, who pulls it off, who doesn't. Things of that sort. It quickly turned into something darker. One of the guys said "Those people should be treated like the Jews. Fucking put them in some camps and kill those freaks. They deserve it for trying to play God and shit." I listened for a few more minutes, worried about how they perceived me, before I was able to walk away. I had to collect myself before getting on with my day. There was so much I wanted to say, but obviously it was could have escalated into a dangerous situation for me.
Sometimes, trans people have this feeling of "not being trans enough" because we don't fit into the cookie-cutter norms that society wants us to. We are either too masculine, not masculine enough, too feminine, not feminine enough. Seen as freaks, abominations, people who are trying to defy/play God, so on and so forth. This is obviously not the case. I often feel like I'm not trans enough. It's simply programming. When you're born a female, you're expected to be a certain way. Act, talk, walk, think, feel certain ways that are different from how males are expected to be.
When you cross the line of being transgender, that programming can be difficult to undo. Sometimes, even I realize I've done something that natural-born guys wouldn't do. I have to try and be conscious of everything I do and try to be masculine enough to make sure I'm not coming off as feminine or even gay. I certainly don't see myself as gay, mainly because I don't see myself as a female. Many FtM (female-to-male) guys sometimes feel that they just aren't masculine enough. It causes a lot of disconnect at times, because we are struggling to make sense of what we are working with and how we are perceived in the universe.
I was perceived on the outside as whatever. I don't even know. I probably wasn't even on their scope of concern. Nonetheless, the conversation I overheard had an impact on my self-perception. My confidence was torn down. My will was wrecked. I found myself at home, unable to control my emotions. not necessarily fearful, but full of sadness and anger. I struggled to keep the tears away because I felt like all the efforts I've made to "pass" (which means to embrace and live as authentically as I possibly can) have been a failure. Temporary, but a part of my psyche and my spirit broke. Imagine knowing one of the worst atrocities in history happened to a specific group of people and having somebody wish that upon you. A completely innocent person who just wants to live safely and happily is dealing with somebody wishing they would be tortured and murdered simply for being who they are. Something completely out of their control.
I got two hours of sleep before going to work. I cried uncontrollably. I couldn't even talk about it for about 24 hours. I had to try and deal with it myself because the pain was too much. But why? Why was it so powerful and so painful? The answer is easy: Because it is insanely accepted as appropriate. Not a single one of the other guys said anything in defense of transgender people. None of them said anything to disagree. They didn't necessarily agree and I could tell one was a little uncomfortable with the comments, but there was no correction.
I wasn't strong enough to stand up for myself. I wasn't strong enough to stand up for other transgender people who desperately need it. I feel like a failure. I feel like a fraud. It was a missed opportunity and I realize that. I also accept the fact that I am privileged to be American, to be loved, to be supported, to be who I am. I may not have been able to deal with this transphobia as others would have liked. But I can say that I did what was best for me. Who knows what that could have turned into. Transphobia shouldn't be tolerated, especially to that extent. All it takes is an open mind and an honest attempt to learn about something you may not fully understand. Take the negatives you perceive and turn them into positives, if possible.
Transphobia isn't something that I've been in close contact with more than two or three times in my whole life. Living in central Oklahoma, I would think it would have been a more common occurrence, but I've really been blessed/lucky to be sheltered from this side of it. I've been confronted in the bathroom once, about two years ago, and made it out with minor issues. What people don't understand is that being transgender and being targeted can have instant negative consequences. I was shaken and my confidence dropped but, because I was loved and supported, I got through it fairly quickly. That experience couldn't prepare me for what I experienced the other day.
I overheard some guys talking about transgender celebrities. It seemed like a casual conversation, simply just a discussion of who is, who isn't, who pulls it off, who doesn't. Things of that sort. It quickly turned into something darker. One of the guys said "Those people should be treated like the Jews. Fucking put them in some camps and kill those freaks. They deserve it for trying to play God and shit." I listened for a few more minutes, worried about how they perceived me, before I was able to walk away. I had to collect myself before getting on with my day. There was so much I wanted to say, but obviously it was could have escalated into a dangerous situation for me.
Sometimes, trans people have this feeling of "not being trans enough" because we don't fit into the cookie-cutter norms that society wants us to. We are either too masculine, not masculine enough, too feminine, not feminine enough. Seen as freaks, abominations, people who are trying to defy/play God, so on and so forth. This is obviously not the case. I often feel like I'm not trans enough. It's simply programming. When you're born a female, you're expected to be a certain way. Act, talk, walk, think, feel certain ways that are different from how males are expected to be.
When you cross the line of being transgender, that programming can be difficult to undo. Sometimes, even I realize I've done something that natural-born guys wouldn't do. I have to try and be conscious of everything I do and try to be masculine enough to make sure I'm not coming off as feminine or even gay. I certainly don't see myself as gay, mainly because I don't see myself as a female. Many FtM (female-to-male) guys sometimes feel that they just aren't masculine enough. It causes a lot of disconnect at times, because we are struggling to make sense of what we are working with and how we are perceived in the universe.
I was perceived on the outside as whatever. I don't even know. I probably wasn't even on their scope of concern. Nonetheless, the conversation I overheard had an impact on my self-perception. My confidence was torn down. My will was wrecked. I found myself at home, unable to control my emotions. not necessarily fearful, but full of sadness and anger. I struggled to keep the tears away because I felt like all the efforts I've made to "pass" (which means to embrace and live as authentically as I possibly can) have been a failure. Temporary, but a part of my psyche and my spirit broke. Imagine knowing one of the worst atrocities in history happened to a specific group of people and having somebody wish that upon you. A completely innocent person who just wants to live safely and happily is dealing with somebody wishing they would be tortured and murdered simply for being who they are. Something completely out of their control.
I got two hours of sleep before going to work. I cried uncontrollably. I couldn't even talk about it for about 24 hours. I had to try and deal with it myself because the pain was too much. But why? Why was it so powerful and so painful? The answer is easy: Because it is insanely accepted as appropriate. Not a single one of the other guys said anything in defense of transgender people. None of them said anything to disagree. They didn't necessarily agree and I could tell one was a little uncomfortable with the comments, but there was no correction.
I wasn't strong enough to stand up for myself. I wasn't strong enough to stand up for other transgender people who desperately need it. I feel like a failure. I feel like a fraud. It was a missed opportunity and I realize that. I also accept the fact that I am privileged to be American, to be loved, to be supported, to be who I am. I may not have been able to deal with this transphobia as others would have liked. But I can say that I did what was best for me. Who knows what that could have turned into. Transphobia shouldn't be tolerated, especially to that extent. All it takes is an open mind and an honest attempt to learn about something you may not fully understand. Take the negatives you perceive and turn them into positives, if possible.
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