A Great Week

I’ve had–without exaggeration–what feels emotionally like the best weekend I’ve ever experienced. I also had a lot of fun! Lately, every experience I have (especially emotionally!) is as though I am just now experiencing it for the first time. (Someday, ask me about the first time I ate a Gala apple since transition. It was so delicious I almost cried.)

On the visible side: (initials changed to preserve some semblance of anonymity)
I had a coffee date with K, tea with a friend N, an evening of games with friends BFHS, a lovely dinner cooked with a friend’s boyfriend W, a few drinks with newly engaged friends O and P, and lunch with more friends. I received a phonecall and an official letter from my health insurance approving my appeal to cover GRS. Aaaand I have a date to pick wild berries tomorrow!

A notable aside: the relief I feel from transition–at finally starting to break free from dysphoria for at least short periods of time, at blending naturally, and at being accepted as a woman without hesitation–is evident in the way I sit, listen, and speak.

Emotionally, it’s been a tangled mess of dozens of intense, similar, positive emotions. I started off unbelievably excited and happy for O and P, and the date with K was enormously uplifting. N made me really happy, and I thoroughly enjoyed games with BFHS. That’s when it started getting Interesting.

I felt on Thursday night that I had developed a little crush on B. She’s awesome–but we’d never have a relationship, and my feelings were emotionally out of place. After a few drinks on Friday with O, I realized that over the last few months my feelings towards O have increased tenfold. She played a Really Big part in keeping me sane and alive through early transition, and I will be eternally grateful to her for that. Moreover, I’ve grown to care deeply for her, admire her, and…love her. Waaait. Wait. That last part can’t be right. I went across that back and forth a dozen times, but I couldn’t define it any other way. Love. I figured that my emotions must be a little garbled by drinking, so I slept on it.

In the morning, I meditated on my emotions, and I still couldn’t deny that what I feel for her is stronger than any feeling of love that I’ve ever experienced. When I specifically phrased it that way, the situation was clear: I’ve truly never experienced any emotions on that level before. That doesn’t make it love. She is a friend and a confidante. I trust her, I care for her, and I admire her. That’s it. The feelings I have for her are simply those feelings.

It’s mindblowing to realize how different, intense, and nuanced emotions are now that I’ve been on HRT for almost 5 months! If this is what it feels like to care for someone as a friend, I eagerly await falling in love, again, but for the first time.

On Visibility

Dear cis friends,

Please inform the world that you cannot distinguish most trans people from cis people. It’s a little circular, but you can only see the trans people that you can see. Most trans people are “stealth” (not out) and not obviously trans.

I sometimes hear cis people say they’ve only met a couple trans women before, and I try to find an opportunity to explain that I can nearly guarantee they have met both trans men and trans women. You’ve been friends with trans people, you’ve had trans coworkers, and you may have dated someone trans. Hell, it’s not unreasonable to think you might have even fucked someone trans without knowing.

Trust me: I can’t spot most trans women, and I know a lot more than you do about cues to look for. I met a pair of sisters (one cis, one trans), and I still don’t know which one of the two of them is trans.

As for spotting trans men…good fucking luck with that one! I’ll be over here laughing at you for trying.

Comfort and Reflections

For the last few months, I’ve felt as though blending or passing is some fantasy that I strive for  and I act as though I’ll get there one day, but I still never quite believed that any degree of passing was realistic for me. In the last couple weeks, I started exercising again, and I’m realizing a growing comfort with my body. It doesn’t make me happy, but it relieves some part of the massive dysphoria I’ve felt, and that allows me to be happy. Well, that and estrogen!

I have a workable fall-winter wardrobe now–which is awesome–but my summer wardrobe currently consists of 7 shirts and 3 pairs of capri pants. While trying on a shirt in a thrift store today, I pulled my hair back as I looked over my shoulder into the mirror to see the back of the shirt, and for a moment, I saw my sister.

Outing: May I Tell a Friend?

If you speak with a mutual friend from our mutual past, you are welcome to share with them that I am trans. I recommend something along the lines of, “Raynold changed her name to Rachel as part of her transition as a trans woman.”

Key points here:

• I do not typically share that I am trans with people who did not know me before transition.
• Emphasize the terminology that I’ve asked you to use, and encourage our friends to do the same. Try to avoid using awkward nonsense like “MTF” and “FTM“, to help everyone understand what “trans woman” means. I say this to everyone: “A trans woman is a woman, just like a tall woman or an Irish woman. Trans women are just another type of women.“
• The more you explain to them, the easier this will be for me, and for all trans people. Almost every time I come out feels like a punch in the gut, no matter how well it goes.

If you would like to share that I am trans with someone who did not know me before my transition, please ask me first. Outing me could set up a chain of events that could put me in danger. It might just be something I want to keep private. I don’t need to share my dirty laundry with every queer or trans person I meet!

You may think, “But John is gay, and he’s totally open, and he’ll love to know that there are more LGBT friends in our circle!” First off, I’m lesbian, so add that token to your pile. More importantly, there’s significant history behind the exclusion of bisexuals and trans people from the gay and lesbian communities, and it’s still happening today. Most LGB people are equally unfamiliar as most straight cis people about transgender issues. Most groups that claim to be LGBT friendly are unfamiliar and unready to support the T that they added onto LGB to be inclusive. Gay men often ask straight trans women, “But why can’t you just be a gay man?“, as if she only transitioned to avoid being gay. They wonder why she can’t just dress and act like a woman like any drag queen, but stay physically male. These ideas were popularized by Ray Blanchard and J Michael Bailey, along with “autogynephilia” (fetishizing the love of oneself as a woman), which spawned new gatekeeping problems for trans women seeking HRT.

Sisyphus

I wrote this last week, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post it, but I’m really feeling it today. It started out as a really good day, and then something twisted and everything went a little askew. So I’m taking a moment to try to regain my composure, and to try to make the rest of this day as good as it started.

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I identify with the feelings that this poem presents about being out as a trans woman. This, more than anything else, is why I do not think I will be out next year, nor ever after. My mind may change, and there are a lot of great reasons to be out, and great things that trans women can do as role models, but I am concerned about how people who meet me in the future will view me.

This poem brings up the changed perspective that arises when a trans woman tells someone that she is trans. It’s about that moment when someone squints, ponders, and realizes that the masculine, angular cut of her jaw isn’t just a strong jaw–it’s a man’s jaw! That the deeper tone and thready lack of resonance in her voice is from vocal chords scarred by years of testosterone. And–just for a moment!–she’s not that cool girl that drinks beer with the guys while watching a game. She’s just one of the guys. And you won’t slip on her pronouns, or question that she uses the women’s restroom, but from then on, your view of her is changed. You see the maleness in her figure. Any masculinity in her personality is a guy’s masculinity showing through, not a girl’s tomboyish masculinity. You can’t un-see that.