The above linked article at Questioning Transphobia is a followup to one the author Queen Emily originally posted in July at Feministe. Feministe is a ciswoman-dominated space, and thus generated a rather different response than that at the trans-heavier QT.
From the followup article, on the complicated intersection of biology, identity, and documentation:
The other goes that it is medically necessary to have “accurate” records, on the grounds of me being really a man, “biologically” speaking. Now this is a rather common idea, but it is nevertheless based on a misunderstanding of trans physiology.
...
Now this is of course rather flawed. Bodies just don’t work that way. Hormone treatment as many of y’all know changes all kinds of things. So for one of my emergency situations, when I checked in as female, I was having these stroke things causing me to lose control over one side of my body. The cause? Complicated migraines, a disease overwhelmingly experienced by women and intimately related to estrogen levels. In other words, if I’d checked the “biologically accurate” male box, it would have misled the doctors much more than my checking female is imagined to.
On a personal note: I recently bought a plane ticket. I have not gotten around to legally changing my name yet (for which I have only myself to blame). So when I filled out my travel forms I declared not only my gender but my Title (Ms, Miss, Mr, Mrs, Dr, etc) -- no title was not an option. So I lied, and claimed to be a Female, Ms. (name), because that's what will allow me to travel without question -- at least, if my presentation isn't too confusing when I go to the airport. I'm actually thinking of wearing a girly shirt that day, because these days, when I'm not in Faerie mode I get read as male much more often than not. Which, biologically speaking, is not entirely inaccurate.
Just a thought.
9/16/09
8/11/09
"I have a c*nt, so that makes me... a man"
Found this gem via bilerico. Funny, sarcastic responses to some of the questions trans persons get asked... a lot. <3
I especially like Charles' response to the first question,
"What if you were born into the right body?"
Sure, I experience body dysphoria at times. Sure, certain things about my life now would be easier if I'd been male-assigned at birth. And menstruation was pretty much the suck for most of my life and now that the magic of hormones has ended that I'm pretty much thrilled. But, two buts (heh, I said butts):
1. Easier is not the same as better
2. There are lessons I learned as a modern dancer about inhabiting exactly the body that I'm in as my instrument and using it and loving it. Body-positivity as a political and personal truth is really important to me; so if there are changes I want to make to my physical form, they are to move forward from this point, not to correct a mistake in the form God gave me. The complicated and unusual history that's written on this body is a blessing -- sometimes a difficult one, but never a curse.
Sometimes I find myself in the position of being the 'good' trans friend that you can talk to about stuff without setting off a landmine of rage. In large part this is a choice, a natural one that comes from my generally even-tempered approach to the world, from my tendency to detach and intellectualize problems and think about them calmly and rationally, and from my intense desire to understand the world from perspectives that are not my own. Sometimes I recognize that this can be problematic, and sometimes I have to remind myself that understanding other perspectives doesn't have to undermine my own. I wish there were an easy way to communicate that the reverse is also true -- that my perspective on gender does not have to invalidate that of my cis* friends who have trouble shifting my pronouns and/or don't think they'll ever be comfortable thinking of me as a he. As long as there is tolerance, and a recognition that if that barrier to accepting my male identity exists, it will be a barrier between us in certain situations. And as long as we all remember that I am more than my trans identity (and really, if we're not the most intimate of friends, as long as you use my new name and the pronouns I ask you to use, I don't really care if in your own head you think of me as a man or as a nontraditional woman -- that's a concession I wish I didn't have to make, but it is a reality.)
Sometimes it's really nice to see the kind of truthful sarcasm in the above video, though. So when I'm asked the standard questions, I'll probably answer them kindly and truthfully, or tell the asker to please back off because my genitals are none of their business, but my inner monologue might be a little different. Especially if I'm tired and cranky.
In transition news, I've started to see a tiny bit of growth on my upper lip like a wisp of a hint of a mustache. \o/ It's possible I'm the only one who can see this.
It's the little things that make me happy. :D
I especially like Charles' response to the first question,
"What if you were born into the right body?"
Um... I sort of like being trans. Uh... Do you mean into a body that might get me laid more? I kind of like my body. I don't... I don't think I understand this question.
What if you were born into the right body?
Sure, I experience body dysphoria at times. Sure, certain things about my life now would be easier if I'd been male-assigned at birth. And menstruation was pretty much the suck for most of my life and now that the magic of hormones has ended that I'm pretty much thrilled. But, two buts (heh, I said butts):
1. Easier is not the same as better
2. There are lessons I learned as a modern dancer about inhabiting exactly the body that I'm in as my instrument and using it and loving it. Body-positivity as a political and personal truth is really important to me; so if there are changes I want to make to my physical form, they are to move forward from this point, not to correct a mistake in the form God gave me. The complicated and unusual history that's written on this body is a blessing -- sometimes a difficult one, but never a curse.
Sometimes I find myself in the position of being the 'good' trans friend that you can talk to about stuff without setting off a landmine of rage. In large part this is a choice, a natural one that comes from my generally even-tempered approach to the world, from my tendency to detach and intellectualize problems and think about them calmly and rationally, and from my intense desire to understand the world from perspectives that are not my own. Sometimes I recognize that this can be problematic, and sometimes I have to remind myself that understanding other perspectives doesn't have to undermine my own. I wish there were an easy way to communicate that the reverse is also true -- that my perspective on gender does not have to invalidate that of my cis* friends who have trouble shifting my pronouns and/or don't think they'll ever be comfortable thinking of me as a he. As long as there is tolerance, and a recognition that if that barrier to accepting my male identity exists, it will be a barrier between us in certain situations. And as long as we all remember that I am more than my trans identity (and really, if we're not the most intimate of friends, as long as you use my new name and the pronouns I ask you to use, I don't really care if in your own head you think of me as a man or as a nontraditional woman -- that's a concession I wish I didn't have to make, but it is a reality.)
Sometimes it's really nice to see the kind of truthful sarcasm in the above video, though. So when I'm asked the standard questions, I'll probably answer them kindly and truthfully, or tell the asker to please back off because my genitals are none of their business, but my inner monologue might be a little different. Especially if I'm tired and cranky.
In transition news, I've started to see a tiny bit of growth on my upper lip like a wisp of a hint of a mustache. \o/ It's possible I'm the only one who can see this.
It's the little things that make me happy. :D
7/31/09
FTM voice recordings
So a few weeks ago I started doing little voice recordings to chronicle the changes I'm going through. I have no idea if they'll be of interest to anyone but me, but today I started uploading them to imeem anyway. My page is here:
gelasius on imeem
... and the first two recordings are uploaded here:
Gabriel Faith 071609
Gabriel Faith 072409
That's all, folks. :)
... and the first two recordings are uploaded here:
Gabriel Faith 072409
That's all, folks. :)
7/21/09
Last night, on chat...
Gay friend: Can I ask you a really personal question?
Me: Of course.
GF: When you're ready for the surgery, do you get to pick the size?
Me: *sporfle*
Me: That's not what I was expecting.
GF: Because I want to help you shop.
Me: [gives Trans101 explanation of how there isn't really a The Surgery for FTM and how it's unlikely I'll be doing anything of the sort anyway.]
GF: I'm just saying, I know dick.
Then we talked about packies and STPs for a while and he told me I'm hot as a guy and would totally give me head (might want to check with his husband on that one, *koff*)
::amused::
Me: Of course.
GF: When you're ready for the surgery, do you get to pick the size?
Me: *sporfle*
Me: That's not what I was expecting.
GF: Because I want to help you shop.
Me: [gives Trans101 explanation of how there isn't really a The Surgery for FTM and how it's unlikely I'll be doing anything of the sort anyway.]
GF: I'm just saying, I know dick.
Then we talked about packies and STPs for a while and he told me I'm hot as a guy and would totally give me head (might want to check with his husband on that one, *koff*)
::amused::
7/14/09
that was a joke, ha ha, fat chance
One of those 'well, duh' facts about transitioning around people who knew me before: Make jokes.
It's a truth well known that humor is good for defeating the elephant in the dining room. My friends are kind, generous people who don't want to hurt or offend me, so for the most part they're not going to make the first jokes while still concerned about slipping up on their pronouns. Since I'd MUCH rather my friends feel comfortable around me and sometimes call me 'she' than tiptoe around me and worry all the time and always always call me 'he', I've been working at demonstrating my willingness to be communicative. Examples:
S: Yeah, last year her boots... 'his' boots were different. SORRY.
me: No, 'her' is right. Last year it was 'her' boots.
S: *frustrated glare*
me: I'm just messing with you now.
(Okay, so that was a little mean. But S. said it was actually helpful in not worrying so much. So.)
[on a swivel stool that won't stay put; usually it rotates to the left, but when I sat down it started rotating to the right]
me: See? I go both ways.
G: Yes. Yes you do. *snickers*
It's a truth well known that humor is good for defeating the elephant in the dining room. My friends are kind, generous people who don't want to hurt or offend me, so for the most part they're not going to make the first jokes while still concerned about slipping up on their pronouns. Since I'd MUCH rather my friends feel comfortable around me and sometimes call me 'she' than tiptoe around me and worry all the time and always always call me 'he', I've been working at demonstrating my willingness to be communicative. Examples:
S: Yeah, last year her boots... 'his' boots were different. SORRY.
me: No, 'her' is right. Last year it was 'her' boots.
S: *frustrated glare*
me: I'm just messing with you now.
(Okay, so that was a little mean. But S. said it was actually helpful in not worrying so much. So.)
[on a swivel stool that won't stay put; usually it rotates to the left, but when I sat down it started rotating to the right]
me: See? I go both ways.
G: Yes. Yes you do. *snickers*
Chicago transgender groups in the news
Maybe it's just my boundless optimism, but the title of this article makes me a little sad:
Transgender Chicagoans find refuge in their city
Refuge? Not community, or pride, or something else actively positive? "Refuge" sounds like an apology, like transpeople are on the very fringes of society and grateful simply to survive on the scraps tossed to us by the generous normals, or something. I know the intention of the article is in the right place, and it's always good for our groups to get exposure, but somehow it just rubs me wrong. Like it's just reinforcing the unhelpful idea that trans*people are all victims.
::sigh::
(unrelated) Note To Self: Flirting with heterosexual boys now makes them uncomfortable. Don't overdo it.
hehehehe...
\o/
Transgender Chicagoans find refuge in their city
Refuge? Not community, or pride, or something else actively positive? "Refuge" sounds like an apology, like transpeople are on the very fringes of society and grateful simply to survive on the scraps tossed to us by the generous normals, or something. I know the intention of the article is in the right place, and it's always good for our groups to get exposure, but somehow it just rubs me wrong. Like it's just reinforcing the unhelpful idea that trans*people are all victims.
::sigh::
(unrelated) Note To Self: Flirting with heterosexual boys now makes them uncomfortable. Don't overdo it.
hehehehe...
\o/
7/7/09
re: your acne
Wow, I really am turning into a teenage boy. I just discovered that men's swim trunks are the most awesome things ever and now I want lots of them. Mesh lining. MESH. LINING! I'm wearing them right now. :)
I've started my Renaissance Faire season (opening weekend this Saturday!) which means another couple hundred people joining me on my gender transition. Yes, I know, this is terribly self-centered of me, but that's my vantage point. Sometimes it feels like every moment I've lived for the past few months is about the transition, like I'm always in the spotlight. (Sometimes, I even like it.)
Every time I'm spoken to, my gender expression is considered. Every time I'm referred to, there's a hesitation before my pronoun is used. My very existence makes people feel weird for using a pronoun they didn't use last year; or guilty for using the one I don't prefer; or resentful of me for making them think about it. And for that, I do genuinely apologize. Not for doing what I'm doing, but for the side effects that come along with it. This isn't so much a fabulously unknown discovery as... something that's good for me to remember, and something I'm learning the realities of. Something else I'm learning is that my image is shifting in my mind faster than it's shifting in the outside world and that the flow of pronouns around me is something of a gauge* for that external image. It's going to take time, and the truth is that I have the opportunity to step back and watch it happen. (Sometimes, that's kinda cool.)
Is this a depressing post? It doesn't feel like one -- but the image in my mind is not, at times, the one that others see.
*one of those words that's just weird and never feels like it's spelled right, argh.
I've started my Renaissance Faire season (opening weekend this Saturday!) which means another couple hundred people joining me on my gender transition. Yes, I know, this is terribly self-centered of me, but that's my vantage point. Sometimes it feels like every moment I've lived for the past few months is about the transition, like I'm always in the spotlight. (Sometimes, I even like it.)
Every time I'm spoken to, my gender expression is considered. Every time I'm referred to, there's a hesitation before my pronoun is used. My very existence makes people feel weird for using a pronoun they didn't use last year; or guilty for using the one I don't prefer; or resentful of me for making them think about it. And for that, I do genuinely apologize. Not for doing what I'm doing, but for the side effects that come along with it. This isn't so much a fabulously unknown discovery as... something that's good for me to remember, and something I'm learning the realities of. Something else I'm learning is that my image is shifting in my mind faster than it's shifting in the outside world and that the flow of pronouns around me is something of a gauge* for that external image. It's going to take time, and the truth is that I have the opportunity to step back and watch it happen. (Sometimes, that's kinda cool.)
Is this a depressing post? It doesn't feel like one -- but the image in my mind is not, at times, the one that others see.
*one of those words that's just weird and never feels like it's spelled right, argh.
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