The How

You might be trans

If you fall asleep every night wishing you could be a girl, you might be trans.

If you explain your ability to understand girls by saying you have a girls brain in a boys body, you might be trans.

If you often wear high heels, dresses, and wigs from the dress-up box as a kid, you might be trans. 

If your favorite games with your sister are pretending to be mermaids, fairies, or princesses, you might be trans.

If your best friends are all girls or closeted queers, you might be trans.

If you avoid locker rooms and public restrooms because they make you uncomfortable, you might be trans.

If you avoid groups where you would only be around boys, you might be trans. 

If you fantasize every night about being a lesbian so you can date all those cute queer women, you might be trans.

If all your dreams involve women with penises, you might be trans.

If you spend your unsupervised hours at the library studying academic books about women’s anatomy, you might be trans.

If you watch superhero movies and find yourself having a little too much “aesthetic appreciation” for the male lead, you might be queer.

If you find yourself spending all your energy thinking about and fighting for feminism and queer rights, you might be queer.

If you find yourself going out with “straight” friends to gay bars to watch the dancers on the bar, you might be queer.

If you attend your first pride and finally feel like you’re home, you might be queer.

My coming out post

It’s hard to believe that I’ve only been out of the closet for 4 years. Coming out is a ongoing process in many ways but for me, I mark the moment that I first made a Facebook post to all my friends about my identity. My identity and thinking on terminology and pronouns has changed a lot since then but here’s what I said on June 2, 2015:

Hey folks, I’m Queer!

If you hadn’t figured that out yet, don’t worry! It took me a long time to recognize that in myself and even longer to put words to it, and I’ve never explicitly said it online. More specifically, I identify as Genderqueer Pansexual. And since it’s LGBTQ Pride month, this seems like an appropriate time to officially come out.

Because my gender expression is still masculine(ish), most people perceive me as a cis hetero male, and for most of my life that’s what I tried to conform to. In college our campus LGBTQ discussion group introduced me to the concept of gender nonconformity. For several years that’s how I identified, but it didn’t quite seem like that adequately described my experience of, and sometimes dysphoria about, my gender. So over the last year, I’ve paid more attention to those parts of myself and come to realize a few things.

My gender is complicated, which is where genderqueer comes in. I have never fit comfortably within the standards of masculinity – whether by the American definition, the Evangelical Christian expectations, or in comparison to the experiences of the majority of men I have interacted with. For most of my life I merely accepted being “odd”, “feminine”, “sensitive” or even a “sissy.” But recently I’ve realized that there are other people like me who don’t fit in the binary definitions of gender and that my gender expression doesn’t define my gender identity. I can have a beard and still be non-binary.

Just because the majority of people with a particular body part between their legs tend to act and think in common with one of the two main groups that looks like them doesn’t mean that gender is exclusively binary. There are many people who embrace a non-binary identity like genderqueer. Some choose to change their pronoun to something neutral like “they/them/theirs”. For me, I still choose to use “he/him/his”, but the important part is that this is a conscious choice and I really enjoy being in communities where people ask about pronouns rather than assume.

Genderqueer for me means that I am my own special mix of conventionally male and female behaviors and ways of thinking that don’t really fall easily on a two-dimensional spectrum. I have never identified with other men. I feel very uncomfortable in any men-only groups and I have always sought out the friendship of women, though I did not fully identify with them either. However, feminism has given women some degree of freedom to express a spectrum of gendered behaviors, making “tomboys” and others more normalized. So more often than not, I find that women are more likely to be accepting of my gender nonconformity while men are frequently uncomfortable or at least don’t know how to talk about it maturely.

When it comes to my sexuality, I’m attracted to the person. What is between someone’s legs is not the determining factor for whether or not I am attracted to them. Each person is unique and I experience attraction towards people of all genders, but particularly those who don’t fall completely within the traditional gender binary. Pansexual is a subset of bisexuality for me but specifically calls out my attraction towards other gender-nonconformers and people on the trans* spectrum (not that bisexuality can’t include that).

Some of my friends may have heard me allude to or mention parts of this recently but I have not been very transparent in how I use these terms or inviting of dialogue. So here I tried to lay out the basics but I invite you to ask questions and help me further explore what this looks like for me in relationship with others. This is an ongoing exploration and I don’t know what the future looks like in regards to that evolution, but I hope you’ll join me in finding out.

Because I am white and masculine presenting, I have a lot of privilege in how I come out and who I tell, especially when I am with feminine presenting partners. That’s why it is particularly important for me to come out and speak openly about gender and bisexuality; countering the gender-policing, transphobia, biphobia and monosexism present in both mainstream culture and in homonormative circles can only happen when people speak their truth. I want to use my privilege in positive ways to speak up while it’s not safe for others to do so, though I will try to be clear about only speaking to my experience and not speaking for everyone.

There are a lot of reasons it took me that long to come out, but the biggest one was my first marriage. I started to figure out that I was genderqueer at least 8 months before that post when I started dating other nonbinary people but when I told my wife, she wanted me to stay closeted so she didn’t have to “answer any awkward questions.” My marriage had been doomed from the start for many reasons but that was the beginning of the end. You should never be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t want you to be your most authentic self. But coming out is not always safe and I had to wait until I had escaped that marriage before I could say something broadly.

Leaning into my gender exploration is the best thing I have ever done for myself. I truly think that everyone should have a good hard look at their gender and sexuality before assuming they are straight and cisgender. Because you never know what you might be hiding from yourself.

How long it takes to come out

Something that I have a lot of internalized shame about is how long it took me to figure out that I was trans and act on that. Looking back at my childhood, all the signs were there, though they certainly weren’t obvious at the time. And a lot of that is because I didn’t know that trans people existed. I assumed I must be the only one who felt like this and that there was nothing that could be done about it, outside of a miracle.

But the more I learn about psychology, sociology, trauma, and all that other brain and social determinant stuff, the more I realize that there were plenty of good reasons that I didn’t come out until I did. My brain was protecting me, keeping me safe until I was in a place where I could be myself without as much risk of harm. Or at least it was trying. Sometimes you just reach a breaking point and you can’t avoid it anymore no matter what your situation.

After my very conservative childhood where I was isolated from knowing any out queer or trans people, I went straight into a conservative college. I started to meet gay men and even some queer women, but I didn’t know anyone who was trans. The first out trans woman I met had a more binary path than me and I still had a hard time imaging following that path. I did start to think about expanding gender a bit around that time as I began identifying as gender non-conforming. But I still thought that meant that I was a feminine man.

I feel like I was on the verge of finally figuring out my gender and sexuality when I got sucked into a relationship with my then best friend. It was one of those unhealthy relationships from the start where she demanded all my attention and frequently alienated me from my friends. Partly because of my own lingering baggage from the form of Christianity I was still coming out of and partly because I needed a way to pay for school when my parents tried to control me, we got married after only 11 months of dating. But as soon as we got engaged and she no longer felt the need to woo me, things went downhill fast.

From my wedding night on, my life became about compromising who I was to make her happy. I no longer had any energy to figure out my gender and sexuality because I was fighting just to keep my head above water and try to figure out what was wrong with me and my marriage. I spent 6 more years like that, struggling with crippling anxiety and depression as the abuse continued and my mental health was shamed. She loved taking advantage of my feminine traits when they suited her, like manipulating me into doing most of the cooking and cleaning and emotional labor. But she had a vested interest in keeping me from going past the point she wanted.

During that time my brain didn’t allow me to think about my identity. I hid the most vulnerable parts of myself away deep inside a shell to protect them from the violence in my relationship. I spent most of what little free time I had avoiding any deep reflection. I had finally escaped religious abuse only to find myself in a much more intense form of emotional abuse.

But eventually I reached a breaking point in my relationship. We went to couples therapy for 5 years and finally after 4 years of making no progress on how to make an asexual person and an allosexual person compatible sexually our therapist suggested opening up our marriage and exploring polyamory. My ex had no interest in dating but she begrudgingly allowed me to date because she knew at that point it was the only way to keep me. It was a terrible place to be dating from but it did allow me to finally get farther out in the real world outside of her influence and eventually meet queer and trans people.

It was the first trans person I dated who really helped me think about how I might be more than just gender non-conforming and how to expand how I viewed genderqueer identity. And once I started to unravel that ball of yarn I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t safe yet but that catalyst was all I needed to start myself on the journey to where I am now. Having that person (who is still a dear friend of mine) give me permission to think about the thing I had been avoiding for all my life allowed me to start to think outside the trauma I’d been experiencing.

My ex didn’t like that however. When I came out to her as genderqueer and bi she immediately told me not to tell anyone else because she “didn’t want to have to answer awkward questions.” That was the beginning of the end for our relationship. I had finally taken a huge step forward in becoming myself and all she could think about was herself. She was also deeply biphobic because she was convinced this was me becoming only attracted to men (which doesn’t make sense when I’d wanted sex with her for 7 years).

Shortly after that though I started dating the queer woman who is now my spouse. And she showed me what it felt like to be truly loved FOR who I am, not despite it. She has been the most gender affirming person I have ever met and at each step of my transition she has made it clear that she loves me no matter what direction I go. She doesn’t have a specific outcome in mind for me except that of becoming my most authentic self.

I pretty quickly realized I need to leave my ex so I moved out 4 years ago this month and came out publicly shortly thereafter. I have now filled my life with other wonderful people, cis and trans, queer and straight, who affirm me like that as well. If you had told me only 5 years ago that I would be here now, I would have either laughed or cried. It felt so impossible to imagine ever being on a pathway to happiness at that moment.

So when I see people come out, especially later in life, I feel so much love for them. They have finally broken the chains of their trauma and societal expectations and set themselves free. I don’t hold any judgement for how long it took them because I know that often times that was for their own safety or lack of resources. They had the courage to not let their past define their future. Which is a lesson I think everyone could learn from.

Adding stories, not replacing

So I see a lot of trans people harp against the “wrong body” narrative. And in a way I get it, especially when that is the only narrative that cis people seem to be able to hear.

But the thing is, it is true for some of us. Particularly after puberty I frequently thought that I had been given the wrong body even before I knew what trans people were. An analogy I used yesterday was that it feels like I had the wrong hardware installed for my operating system. I’ve finally gotten the wiring right (estrogen) but I’m still working on replacing the casing.

We shouldn’t have to replace the “old” narratives of transition in order to expand them. What we need is more diversity of trans stories being elevated. Those stories are already being told but allies aren’t always listening and boosting those stories in the same way as the nice, neat, clear-cut narratives. As long time followers of my blog can probably tell, the real journey is messy. It doesn’t always involve absolute certainty about the steps and questioning your decisions is a normal part of any medical intervention or major life shift. Not following the cookie-cutter story should absolutely NOT be a reason to deny a trans person care.

So I invite you to listen to stories that challenge you. Narratives that don’t follow the path that you would expect. Parts of them may still fit the story we are used to but that isn’t the complete story either. We just need to expand our view of trans diversity. Because trans people are at least as diverse as cisgender people. We can be queer or straight or asexual. We can be binary or nonbinary or not even have a clear sense of gender. We can have dysphoria or we can simply find our path through gender euphoria. We can be neurotypical or neurodivergent. We can be fat or skinny or somewhere in between. We can fit a modern western story or follow in the footsteps of our transcestors who come from hundreds of cultures spanning thousands of years. Those things don’t need to be pitted against each other like some sort of competition for being the purest trans.

Your job isn’t to gate-keep and ensure we are absolutely 500% positive before we can receive the gender affirming care we need. Your job is to listen to us and let us guide our care. So listen to ALL of us, not just some of us.

Gendered Clothing

Figuring out clothing in a gendered world is so complicated. There are so many things that I found before I began transitioning that are comfortable and look good on me but that I hesitate to wear because of how they are gendered or perceived. I wish I could just wear whatever felt good to me without having to worry about overcompensating on my gender expression in hopes of being read more accurately in the world.

Every choice I make about how I dress impacts how people see me. If I was a cis woman, I could take advantage of the full range of clothing and most people wouldn’t question my gender. But being a non-passing trans person, I feel like I need to dress a certain way to signal to both cis people and other trans people that I’m not a man. My options are opening back up a bit more now that I actually have more feminine curves but I still have to think about it daily. Is what I’m wearing going to be perceived sufficiently feminine to legitimize my identity?

Growing up I had zero sense of fashion. There were a lot of reason for that. For one, I was homeschooled so I didn’t have a lot of examples of what other kids were wearing. For another, there was a lot of pressure to fit the mold of conservative Christianity and I was constantly being told to put on collared shirts or cheap slacks which wouldn’t look good on anyone. And to this day I can’t stand to wear navy blue bottoms with white shirts because that was the cult uniform. But mostly, I was just awkward in my body because guess what, I was trans!

Whenever possible I would dress down in sweats or jeans and a tshirt. Mostly that was because so much of the time I had to dress up for church or to be presentable at some event and when I did so I was deeply uncomfortable. Because the more “dressed up” you get, the more gendered clothing becomes. Suits and ties are a strong indicator of gender (or sexuality depending on your body). And because that was the wrong gender, I felt very awkward in my skin whenever I wore them. I was constantly complaining that I felt strangled by ties and I hated wearing suits. I rationalized those by telling myself it was because I had a wider neck and got hot easily. But really, I was chaffing at the expectations that came along with them.

Once I became an adult I cycled through many different styles trying to find a way to be comfortable and still professional. Most of the time I ended up looking rather preppy but rarely was I what you would call fashionable. I started to get there towards the end when I was dressing more like a flamboyant gay man. But I honestly have no good sense of straight male fashion. I wanted to wear what the beautiful women around me were wearing.

Rarely do I wear high femme outfits like fancy dresses and heels to work. Because that’s not the kind of person I would normally be. And when I do wear something to an event like that it is often because I view gender as a costume or I’m overcompensating for how the rest of my body is perceived. For so much of my life I thought I was a feminine boy when really I was just a tomboyish girl. I just wish I could dress that way without being seen as a man.

Hypervisibility revisited

I’ve written before about the burden of hypervisibility as a trans person who is never going to pass or not be noticed everywhere I go. I even wrote a chapter about it for the anthology Nonbinary: Memoirs of Gender and Identity which comes out next week. But I do want to circle back around to that topic briefly.

I’m not entirely sure what exactly changed but slowly over the last year and a half since I wrote that essay, some of that burden has lifted. I no longer feel that constant pressure of eyes on me everywhere I go in the same oppressive way. It’s not that people aren’t staring, it’s about my perception of it.

It may be that I have simply developed thicker armor when I go out in public and like so many women before me, have had to learn to accept that unwanted attention is going to happen in a world where misogyny reigns free. Or it may be that I’ve redefined what that attention means. I no longer assume that everyone who I catch staring at me has ill intentions. I know from experience that the vast majority of it is probably curiosity or even good will. And knowing that I can’t determine the meaning in their gaze (unless they are openly videoing me and leering) has left me more open to generous interpretation.

Now I’m not trying to give you blanket permission to go stare at everyone you encounter who is “different” or edgy or whatever you want to call it. When I’m already raw from microaggressions, that attention still chafes. But having so much support at home, in my friend circles, and at work helps relieve some of that daily microaggression exposure so that I’m more able to tolerate things like misgendering and stares in public.

In a lot of ways, my dysphoria and mental health has gotten worse lately as I dive deeper into my self examination and awareness. And all I can do it to keep trying to find the energy to push forward in hopes that that burden will lessen as I get the gender affirming treatments that I need. But it is also helpful for me to look back and acknowledge these areas where life has gotten better and the things I thought would plague me forever have faded away from my conscious thoughts.

Should allies use they/them pronouns?

For every opinion a trans person shares, you can always find someone who disagrees. It may surprise you but we don’t have annual meetings or anything to decide what our unified message is. But one thing that concerns me and I suspect didn’t originate in the trans community is the idea that cisgender “allies” should adopt they/them pronouns for themselves.

And I’m going to go ahead and say that’s a big old NOPE from me. I want people around me who proudly own their pronouns in a way that normalizes the asking and sharing of them. We need to model to people who are still learning that pronouns are not something that should just be assumed based on appearance. If you don’t know how someone wants to be referred to, the safest option is something gender neutral. But the best practice is always to ask first and get used to doing it so that it doesn’t feel uncomfortable anymore.

And don’t walk into a conversation, especially where trans people are present, and say “oh, I don’t care what pronouns you use for me” if you are cisgender. All that signals to us is that you are so confident that you will be gendered correctly that you are willing to accept people’s assumption. It’s a sign of your privilege and based on the reality that you have never had the deep discomfort that comes with being constantly misgendered everywhere you go. Now of course there are plenty of nonbinary people who for various reasons are apathetic about their pronouns or don’t feel comfortable setting expectations. But we don’t need you muddying the waters.

Nonbinary people are constantly fighting this idea that our identities are a “fad” or a phase to not be taken seriously. Our enemies are actively looking for reasons to dismiss us and prove that this is just some social justice plot to make people uncomfortable. And when those people see you lightly using these pronouns, especially if you only do so to “teach them a lesson” or in liberal circles, they take us less seriously too.

So please, leave they/them pronouns for nonbinary people and for people whose gender you don’t know. Own your pronouns boldly by doing things like putting them in your email signatures, on your nametags, or wearing pins at events. Make it clear to people around you that the only way to know pronouns is if someone has told you. And model that by telling them what you actually use.

And remember, be kind about how you correct people. Gendered language has been hard wired in our education and systems for long enough now that there are a lot of people who have unlearning to do. And many of those people have less access to learn about how and why to do that. In particular, when you are interacting with working class folks such as service staff or people for whom English is their second language, have some patience. It may take many times of correcting people but believe me when I say that a gentle hand with a carrot is going to make a far bigger difference than a slap on the wrist.

When you see someone being misgendered around you who has already made their pronouns known in that space, please speak up and say something. Correct that manager who intentionally or unintentionally misgenders their staff member in a meeting. The good managers will show you who they are by responding in kind and the bad ones will then be forced to make a choice about whether to keep persisting intentionally. And if you see it happen to someone you know and you aren’t sure if you should say something, ask them privately afterwards. Sometimes it’s easier not to make waves or they may not be out in that situation. But often times it is just because we are exhausted of constantly correcting people every moment of our lives. Our patience has worn thin because of the constant mosquito bites of microaggressions but you as an ally have the ability to advocate for us without as great of a power differential.

If you see it happening repeatedly from the same people, maybe offer to have a practice session with them where they talk about the things they appreciate about the person they misgendered to you in a safer space where they feel less embarrassed being corrected. There are a lot of steps that you as an ally have the ability and power to do to normalize the use of gender neutral pronouns. Just don’t appropriate them yourself.

And finally, remember that Allyship is a verb. It’s not some badge you earn because you are vaguely supportive. You have to do that work actively.

Why you need to reject the idea of “passing” as cis

As I’m reading through some of the older articles by one of my favorite authors, Kai Cheng Thom, I came across this beauty:

How to Love Being a Non-Passing Trans Woman in 9 Affirming Steps

And I’m reminded how crucial accepting that fact was to my coming out journey.

There is so much pressure, both in the cisnormative world around us and from other trans people, to achieve some level of “passing” where people on the street or sometimes even people in the sheets can’t tell you are trans. For so many trans people, their ultimate goal is to get to a point where people think they are cisgender. And while there is a lot of power and safety in that and I absolutely do not blame people for wanting that, it is also a dangerous trap that can hold us back from truly being happy.

For so much of my life I thought that I couldn’t be trans because my body had grown in ways that I knew I could never reverse. With my broad shoulders, my strong chin, my large hands, my massive feet, and my deep bass singing voice, I knew that no matter how much surgery I had, I could never achieve my ideal of how I thought a woman should look. And I thought that meant that womanhood itself was hopelessly out of reach and at best I could just be a feminine man who was too attracted to women to be gay but too abnormal to be loveable. And it was largely because of that false belief that I allowed myself to settle for an abusive marriage.

For me at least, the path to self acceptance lay in embracing my femme identity with the full knowledge that I will never pass. I had to grieve the body I would never have and love the body I did have. I started out looking for the people who looked like I could when I started. Nonbinary icons who have never done medical transition and proudly display their beards and stubble like Alok Vaid Menon, Jacob Tobia, and Jeffrey Marsh. I surrounded myself with trans women so gorgeous that they take my breath away and I’ve slowly come to realize that I am that person for other people too. I leaned into the aspects of myself that I could make feminine for myself even if other people gendered them differently. I found joy in finding clothing that emphasized my tall frame and those rare gems that were size 13 heels.

I had to reject consciously and daily the idea that had to look traditionally feminine to be femme. Because femme at its core is a queer identity based in simultaneously embracing and queering feminine traits while rejecting many of the oppressive gender norms. My partners who are fiercely fat and femme helped me learn through this process how to hold yourself boldly even when you get glares in public for doing so. Of course I am not confident every day or even most of the time, but putting on that armor of femme identity helps push through those moments. I am femme despite society, not because of it. And finding my corner of weirdos and unconventional beauty helps me see the beauty in myself.

Once I had laid the groundwork in embracing my body and finding the parts of it that I love, only then could I truly identify what areas of my body needed change to fit MY dysphorias rather than what other people were projecting onto me. In many ways I truly loved my beard and how dramatic it made my face when paired with makeup and a dress. But I also could see how much happier I could be if I stopped avoiding my chin and made the necessary changes to bring it in line with who I want to be. And sometimes that means that things will get worse before they get better. But it is a lot easier to bear when I am doing these things for myself and not because I think I have to.

Another thing that has helped tremendously is realizing the incredible variety that exists within gender. For me, I like to look up to the cisgender women in my life like my mom who is 6 foot and my aunt who is 6’2″ and wears the same size shoes as me. And yes, sometimes they get accosted in restrooms about whether they belong but because they clearly do, it helps me know that I can too (not that I’ve actually worked up the courage for that yet). Women literally come in all shapes and sizes so don’t let someone tell you that you aren’t fully a woman because you look a certain way. They can shove off with their internalized misogyny.

Do I walk through the world confidently every day? Absolutely not. Do I love every aspect of my body? Hell no. Do I question the path I’ve taken? Sometimes. But I have earned my femininity just as much as someone who fits whatever this decade’s ideal of female beauty is. I am a nonbinary woman and I don’t need to pass.

Metamorphosis

I’ve heard many trans people use the allegory of metamorphosis and seeing their transition phase as a cocoon but it really feels true. I am still struggling to figure out who I am without my beard now. The beard was a big part of who I was as a caterpillar and now that I don’t have it I am struggling to see the butterfly underneath the stubble. I can see my wings starting to form and I’m looking more and more like the idealized version of myself every day. But right now, especially between braces and electrolysis, I very much feel like I am in a cocoon phase. I really wish that I could just hide away until my metamorphosis is complete. But sadly I need a job and I’m an extrovert (though to a much lesser degree than before). Someday the butterfly will emerge even if not as dramatically as a single moment of unfurling my wings.

A rant

Pardon me for a moment but I need to rant.

Hey. Young Activists and SJWs. STOP. TREATING. PEOPLE. LIKE. THEY. ARE. DISPOSABLE!
 
I am so sick and tired of queer community treating people who are trying to learn and improve, ESPECIALLY trans women, like they are disposable. In my mind if you aren’t including rural queers who are still catching up on the quickly evolving language we use in the city and binary trans people who have been doing this a whole lot longer, then your movement is fundamentally flawed.
 
Trans women, especially ones who are binary and/or straight, NEED community just as much if not more so than you. And yet they are constantly either scared away by the transmisogynistic rhetoric that you subtly incorporate or actively driven away by being slapped down the moment they say the wrong word. We need queer and trans elders in our communities! They have invaluable knowledge to impart if only you would take a moment to listen without looking for “problematic” elements. And the vast majority of them are very teachable if you just use some compassion and patience.
 
The “purity” culture in social justice circles is unacceptable and harmful. You are creating a world where only people who have the privilege to spend all their time online and in community get to continue to engage in community. You tear anyone who steps up to do the work of leadership apart because you don’t know how to differentiate between imperfect but improving leaders and ones who are irredeemable. Within our communities there is no one who has all the privilege and there are very few who have none. But you treat privilege like it is a black and white have/have not type situation. You preach intersectionality and then when the rubber hits the road you show that all you really care about is performing your activism to look good in front of the popular kids.
 
STOP MAKING PERFECT THE ENEMY OF GOOD!
<end rant>