I like challenging some of the memes of the trans world. As a group we carry a lot of baggage to do with identification, the way we name ourselves, stuff inherited from past types of diagnosis and the historical gates we had the get through to receive treatment, societal expectations around perversion, sexuality and religion…
What I really want to do in this blog is show that there are other paths outside of the norm, that there are other equally as valid ways of carrying out your journey. I’ve been thinking about what the ‘idealised’ transsexual woman might look like in western white society using all the standard memes and tropes out there (caveat: based on my experience of white western culture). I started making it but I realised it was pretty offensive. It was offensive in that actually some of us might look exactly like it and that is perfectly ok. I think there is an element of arrogance on my part as if to say that I know better. All I really have is my own experiences and my interactions (and altercations) with other trans type people.
So instead I thought I would make myself a little vulnerable and talk about some of the things I said before and during my transition. These are things I said because they were the party line of my community, because I wanted to protect myself because I was afraid that I was not trans enough or that I would lose people I love. I’m feel very embarrassed and sad and guilty about some of these things, but here goes:
I never get aroused by dressing as a woman.
There is this massive fear among many trans people of all stripes that they will be labelled as autogynophilic (translating to something like getting turned on by seeing yourself as a woman). There is a huge stigma attached to this. I think in the past you were not considered a ‘true’ transsexual, and therefore not receive treatment, if you were autogynophilic. We are understandably afraid of being labelled as 'simply' having a sexual perversion, so divorcing ourselves from sex is in many ways good PR. It is not generally considered a valid reason for transition.
I used to say on no uncertain terms that I did not have autogynophilia, but this is a lie. Helen Boyd in her book “My husband Betty” spoke very frankly about autogynophilia among trans people. I think it was that book that made me realise, or at least admit to myself, that I do get turned on by seeing myself as a woman.
While the thrill has diminished with time from those first teenaged forays, I still love myself. I love looking at my body. I love feeling the curves. I love that I feel ‘right’. It turns me on. It is a kind of narcissism and if I was somehow cloned I would so do me.
There is no denying that I suffered from gender dysphoria. There is also no doubt that my body now matches my internal sense of self. But I am still turned on by seeing myself with a female body. Perhaps this is just one expression of gender euphoria, the, in my case, lusty busty sister of gender dysphoria. Not all of us feel this, but I think more of us do than we like to admit.
I will still be the same person inside
I think this is the biggest lie we tell ourselves, that somehow we will remain unchanged within all our physical change. Usually this is something we say to partners, to try and reassure them that the person they love is still there.
Unfortunately what we don't or choose not to consider is that transitioning is not just a physical change. It can be a total emergence of a very inexperienced young self who has a huge amount of growth to do in order to find their place in the world. We change. We change in ways we don’t even realise ourselves. Our interests can change. Some of us even change sexuality. Sometimes this makes us closer to our partners, but more often I think it takes us further away from the person they loved.
I’ve said it myself. I said it to my partner at the time. I said it to my family. But while I retain much of the self I was I now relate to the world in a very different way and it also relates differently to me.
I think this last point is very important. We might not change but the way the world sees us does. It can be something as simple as men now expecting you to walk through a door or enter a lift first (I still struggle with this one and makes for some awkward interactions. Actually many trans women will tell you that gender is irrelevant in that they let everyone through doorways first but men are socialised to do this. I think women are not socialised to do this at all. Try this as a woman and things get weird. In the case of man on man I remember the higher status male will let another through first even though this was not a conscious thing). It can be much more overt.
I used to love to hunt, but my hunting was wrapped in my relationship with my dad. It was always with him that I went and it was part of our thing. It was part of my identity that I was someone who went out and killed wild things and had wild adventures in the bush and came back covered in blood and the stench of wild things. But it was never something I pursued strongly under my own steam. When I transitioned my dad stopped asking me hunting and I have never gone again.
As soon as I started wearing woman’s clothing I felt very ‘natural’
It definitely feels better to be able to dress as you want to dress. For me, while it felt right to wear women’s clothing, it took some time for it to feel ‘natural’. Most of my pants did not have pockets in them. My shape was not conducive of a lot of women’s clothing (which I think is true for most women too on account of the varied body shapes and more fitted clothing). Bra’s were uncomfortable. Lace trim was itchy. High heels sometimes painful. The clothing hugged and exposed more than male clothing did. I was not used to moving in it or needing to be careful crouching down to tie my shoelaces while wearing a skirt. I was understandably very self-conscious.
There was incredible feeling of freedom and relief being able to wear it and I would say that it felt so right and natural. But what I did not say was that for many of my early attempts at staying in them for long periods of time I felt gutted that by the end of it I could not wait to get out of those clothes and back into my male slouchy wear. It did not help either that the stuff I wanted to wear was from a very idealised female image and in many cased this type of clothing is the least comfortable to wear. It made me doubt my trans-ness. I wanted it but I was not comfortable. I felt like I had failed.
I did not know the extent of it
This is perhaps my biggest lie I have ever told and for that I have the utmost regret. I still sometimes say it. I said it because it took some of the responsibility away from me. It allowed me to deny that I knew what I really wanted. I said it because I wanted to believe it and I hid from the truth. Even my thoughts skirted around it. But I knew that I wanted to look like a woman. I knew I wanted a female body. I knew that I wanted to wear women’s clothing all the time. I knew that I wanted to change my name and be referred to as she.
What I was really saying and could not admit to was “I don’t know how much of it I can live without”. As a result I prolonged the pain and perhaps made it worse for everyone.
Hindsight is a lovely thing. I should note that despite these desires I did not identify as a woman until well into my transition. Even now that label does not sit entirely comfortable. A topic for another time perhaps.
I think it is worth challenging the memes of the trans world. They are not always our friends. They increase the doubt and guilt many of us feel. They can be very invalidating when you don't fit, and I have seen some of them used as weapons by trans people against other trans people. They can be damaging to ourselves and the ones we love As hard as it can be, owning our own feelings and desires is important. Sometimes we suck (sometimes we suck a lot!) and I think that is part of being human. But we can always try to be better moving forward. What else can you do?
