Hi, Paige
I've read your post several times, and for some reason I've felt troubled. I don't know where this will go, but please permit me to try to write down my thoughts. I'm afraid what I write may in turn be troubling to some—if so, please let me know and I'll remove it, or ask the moderators to do so. I don't even remotely claim that anyone else feels this way. Please also forgive me if I ramble as I write.
I very much want to always pass, as it makes life very much easier than not doing so. I also definitely want people to see me as a woman. When they don't, I try to accept it like I've accepted reactions to errors I've made when learning a new language. If no-one points out something is wrong, I'm much less likely to ever find out, let alone correct it.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
Why does passing make us feel valid? Well let's go back to the start and ask again, what are we passing as? Cis women. So, passing as cis women makes us feel valid.
If passing as cis women is the only way for us to feel valid and like we're actually women, that means that we think, or at least feel like, cis women are more woman that trans women are. This is very hypocritical when we're the ones chanting the phrase "Trans women are real women!".
Yes, being perceived as what I have felt I am ever since childhood does make me feel extremely good. I guess
valid is a perfectly accurate term, although I for some reason am not very fond of it. I've never once felt like or wished to be a
trans woman, as to me personally the prefix, while valid, emphasizes
otherness. I very much want to fix or minimize any feature I can, whether physical or semantic, that clearly sets me apart from my sisters.
In any case I couldn't ever classify myself a "real" woman in the sense that I possess features and experiences my sisters don't, and lack those that they do. If a
real woman is an olympic athlete, I can at the very best strive to participate in the paralympics. Had I transitioned as a child, things might have been slightly better, but in reality even that would not have made me the same. This is my personal reality.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
We're ashamed that we're trans, and we try to distance ourselves from that identity as much as possible, at least in terms of our appearance. If that wasn't the case why would it feel so bad when we look in the mirror and realize that we don't pass, that we look like trans women?
While I've never felt ashamed of being what I am, I do want to fit in the best I can. This does include appearance and voice. I also do know that I cannot ever address everything that sets me apart.
I know some are in a better position than I am. I also know some others struggle more. I accept what I am—hopefully the best that I can be at any given moment—and sincerely hope others can do so as well.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
This was the attitude in the early days of the gay rights movement as well. The general idea was, "Yes I'm gay, and I'm going to have to accept it, but in reality I would rather just be straight". And look at where we are now, we teach every newly out gay person that even though it may be hard, it can be amazing to be gay, and you can, and should take ownership of that identity, and show the world that you're gay instead of acting like just another straight person. Imagine if we applied that mindset to trans people, and passing.
It's very interesting to hear that gay people used to say they would have preferred to be straight. I myself have never truly wanted to be a normal male, except in a moment of desperation when it seemed there was absolutely no way to ever change the documentation that modern society seems so fond of.
I guess customs differ. Most gay men and women I actually have worked with don't really seem to consciously advertise the fact to the world, although they may be open about it when the subject comes up. As for myself—the very thought of
intentionally acting in such a way as to proclaim to the world that I'm transsexual feels foreign. I doubt I could ever bring myself to do it.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
Ok so, you may be saying, "So what, we want to look like cis women, where's the harm in that?" Well, there wouldn't be any harm if all of the trans women in the world trying desperately to pass all got there by their own accord, but they didn't, they got there because society at large, and especially other trans women, tell them that they need to.
No-one—cis or trans—has ever
told me I need to look, sound and act natural. It is something I myself feel is necessary for my own sake. To me it is again a bit like language. I much prefer to become fluent than to entrust figuring out what I mean to the native party. Even when people are accommodating, conversation to me feels much more pleasant and rich when I know they don't need to constantly expend energy on filtering out incongruences. My own comfort grows as this effortlessness increases.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
If you doubt that, just look at the ways that we treat passing. I know that I've been guilty of thinking less of a trans woman because she doesn't pass. I know that I sometimes still am guilty of that. Even if I recognize that I shouldn't think less of them, it's so ingrained in my brain that it's hard to stop. This isn't only confined to me, and don't try to deny it because you all know exactly what I'm talking about. Sometimes we go as far as mocking trans women who don't pass, or who perform femininity in a way not seen as normal, even though I know for a fact that every one of us has been in that place.
I do feel pity when I see anyone who doesn't fit in, trans or not. I must also openly admit I'm guilty of once thinking
"Skirt gorilla!" when I saw and heard a profanity-spewing, bald, bowlegged, scraggly-chinned trans lady wearing a tutu, fishnets, high heels, tight black leather jacket and a sparkly handbag in public. The outfit may have been a means to alleviate deeper pain than I've ever felt—but the sight and sound left me utterly terrified. In this instance I do not deny that I was completely unable of categorizing the person as female in any sense.
Had I been able to perceive any effort to fit in where societal norms are concerned, I might have not felt the sense of personal danger I did—a paralyzing fear that the image might somehow rub off on me by association.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
We also talk about passing as if it's some great end goal that every trans woman needs to aspire to, and even if we claim to support all trans woman regardless of appearance, the attitude is very much still there within the community.
To me getting accepted is a personal necessity. I do support all trans women who have the same need, regardless of whether they wish to pass. However, I cannot personally imagine I myself could ever dare to expect, let alone demand acceptance without also trying to do everything in my power to fit in. To me—again personally—that includes passing the best I can.
While the feedback I receive has helped convince me that dropping the male facade has (fortunately) returned the way I move and speak to the female range (that paradoxically caused me torment in my childhood,) it also tells me that testosterone did masculinize my features and voice sufficiently to matter. I'm no more reluctant to spend time, effort and money to address that than I am to otherwise take care of my physical and mental health. To me the investment is worth it.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
I know that this attitude caused me great pain when I was early in transition and still bought into it, and I've seen it hurt every other trans woman who I know. I felt like passing was something that I needed to do, and every second that I didn't it hurt. Whenever I saw myself, I could only see a man, because I was never trained by the community to be able to accept trans women who don't pass.
This may seem like a small complaint, but for me, and I know for other people, this was one of the main reasons why transitioning made me hate myself so much.
I'm also not conscious of having ever been trained or not trained to accept or not accept anyone. However, I definitely do categorize people subconsciously and instantaneously, and have done so since the earliest age I can remember. My culture uses the familial terms
aunt, uncle, etc. as automatically affixed prefixes, especially during childhood. As I've never observed a child make a mistake when addressing or talking about "cis" people, I believe this quality is innate in most of us.
I completely agree that not being categorized the way I feel does hurt tremendously. It has hurt me every time I've experienced it. However, again, I've chosen to accept the hurt as feedback. Transitioning has never made me hate myself. Rather, it has helped me accept myself. It is something I
needed to do, as remaining untrue to myself constantly etched away at my soul. I'm free and returning home.
Quote from: Paige Heuer on April 05, 2019, 04:00:40 PM
It isn't hopeless though. Over time I started to realize that these ways of thinking were hurting me, so I slowly forced myself to stop. I learned to love myself, and know that I'm valid without seeing a cis woman in the mirror. In fact, now I intentionally talk in my deeper natural voice just to remind myself (and everyone around me) that yes I'm trans, and yes it's ok to be proud of that.
We'll never win acceptance for everyone until we can proudly show the world all of the trans women who don't subscribe to the norms. So to every trans woman out there who can't pass, or who doesn't pass, or who just doesn't want to fit your mold, know that you're beautiful just as you are, and you don't need to live up to someone else's idea of what it means to be you.
I very much admire people who are strong enough to not conform, and at the same time loving, caring, considerate and wholesome enough to be fully accepted and loved by society at large. For me blending in is a necessity—I simply am not good enough, nor do I have sufficient drive or pride to constantly display what has caused me pain if I can avoid doing so.
Actually, looking back, in my school days I did end up being rather non-conformist. The reason was that there was absolutely
no way that I could fit in the boy group. No matter what I did I was questioned, derided and shunned for being too out of the norm. My movements, body language and speech were likely abhorrent to many of my peers. I eventually changed schools, grew my hair, wore whatever I felt like, and started to ignore people's opinions. The "out" group accepted me because I spoke their language, and the elite group because of my grades.
However, even back then I never
wanted to
not belong—and now that I no longer keep up the boy facade, I do very much want to fit in. I want to no longer belong to just the fringes, but be casually accepted by others as well. As I have neither the power nor the desire to force others to accommodate me, I want to make it so that they never even have to think about it.
To be honest, I personally do not think acceptance can ever be won. Rather I think it can at the most be to some degree earned. E.g. while my school's honor society did accept me, I simply can't think of any way I might have been able to
force the main body of the students to do so.
Come to think of it, my conscious non-conformity in school may equate to the choice of the person I mentioned above who scared me so. If that is the case, I can but belatedly think of her with the deepest sympathy. Desperation can drive out all hope of ever fitting in, and provides in return nothing but the satisfaction of knowing one is consciously thumbing one's nose at society. The feeling is something that I wish on no-one.
I'm aware some may think my choices and way of thinking amount to a betrayal of their cause. However, I'm now and have always been primarily an individual, and only secondarily a part of the abstract collective that consists of everything trans. As a person I have no desire to be different than other women. As trans I hope that I can transcend the label in such a way that no-one thinks me in any way different from everyone else where work, simple daily interaction or friendship is concerned.
In any case, be whatever may be I'll always be merely me. Thus, I strive, hope and wish to as best I can be the me that I want to be.