I kind of experienced the same thing at work. When I first started working at my present clinic I was still half a year away from starting hormones. Every body there was looking at me like Whats that? There were even phone calls to my manager wanting to know what kind of freak had been sent to them. All knew I was actually Male at the time. The first couple of weeks was a lot of cold shoulder and snubs, but I did my job, stayed as cheerful as possible and answered up to any calls or request as politely and eficiently as possible.
LIttle by little, one by one, the MA's stationed in the halls began to exchange some small talk with me and again, one by one began to establish a sort of relationship with me, but not all. To this day there are a couple that have never exchanged words with me other then required for business.
As time went on I began to be greeted and exchanged with in any of the med units on the compound. Doctors and head nurses began establishing relationships with me. After starting hormones, as the months went by, my developmental process became a topic of conversation with the various staff. By this time I was always being invited into chats and afterwork plans with members of the staff throughout the compound. Girls that I talked to most would stop me in the halls and ask for a hug. There are a couple I can't walk by without a hug fest. Even when the have a patient on the scales or otherwise involved with them. Some of the girls started refering to me as Ms. Terri. Some of the charge nurses started asking me how i wished to be reffered to as gender wise. My response was to simply refer to me as suited them as I would not stand for anyone to be forced to refer to me as something they didn't believe.
Almost 3 years have gone by and I am treated with all female courtesy by both Male and Female employees, though none of them for a moment believe I am a genetic female, yet they talk to me in softer tones and kid around and chat with me about their daily lives, their husbands, kids, the family car and their pets in perfectly natural tones. They treat me as a person, and better yet, like a female person and many of the MA's like to stay current in my transitional process and when is the final step and do I need any help with sick or vacation time when the time comes. We can save up to 500 hours of vacation time and a few there have offered to donate time from their own accounts If I need it. They make me feel totally accepted and wanted, of value, and I love them for it.
I've been told often enough that they couldn't imagine me as male, though it is a fact that I am one who's appearance changes dramatically depending on mood or thoughts. When happy and secure, I'm a bright, sunny, feminine person, but when not happy about external events at home or worried about finances or a million other things I tend to become very masculine in appearnce and sometimes even deameanor. The staff is familiar with this and when I seem to be more masculine, they come to me asking whats wrong and can they help? They will joke with me and tell me stories to cheer me up and not let me go until they see their "girl" again. On days such as this my partner tells me that on her rounds MA's will stop her and ask her whats wrong with me? Am I sick or have some trouble? And all just because I appear more masculine at times.
Even knowing Full well I am biological male, they do not see me that way and if I appear to be acting that way, do their best to bring me out of it.
It goes pretty deep. They are no more ashamed of associating with me then of talking with any other girl. The other day I was in Opticle Sales. One of the girls followed me out into the reception lobby while talking with me about upcoming surgery. We stopped in the lobby and chatted a bit about how long I would be off and would it be a painful process and all that. When we said goodby, I turned around and a lady waiting in line for reception was glaring at me in a way I didn't like. She was a big woman and if the same look had been on a man, my hackles would have gone up, but as she was obviously over 60, and female I discounted it. Said "nice to see you again" and walked out. This same woman had stopped me earlier for directions and had completely accepted me as female during our short conversation and now realized she had made a "mistake" and apparently didn't like the idea of it.
Same occurs on the streets. Some will have nothing to do with me, but almost everyone that takes time to talk with me and get to know me a little gives me at least some acceptance, some totally. The corner store I often stop at, a regular stop for construction people, gangstas and Harley people, they clerks all know me by name and treat me with total respect. some of the hardcases watch me some, but so far nobody has made any challenge or threat and just for fun I sometimes ask one of them to hold heaverier items like packs of cokes etc. while giving them my brightest smile and so far they are always glad to. And I'm telling you, as a package, I'm not all that passable, and now that it's warming up I often go in on days off wearing tops and T-shirts which show my bare arms, complete with the unfemine Tatoos, sometimes even showing off the skull and wheel above my belt line in midrif tops. there is little doubt that I'm a ->-bleeped-<- and not a genetic when you look me over, The dropped right eye, the scars around both eyes and around my jaw and the scars and burns on my arms are enough to make one wonder about female, but they accept it.
Of course a lot of it is just I happen to be in the middle of Queer county so for most anybody, it's not all that unusual to encounter one of us, but the personal interactions show more then tolerance, and I know some who are afraid of their shadow when stepping out who to me at least, pass wonderfully, just it's only skin deep for them and thats what comes through when directly involved with people they don't know. I just bebop around in my Jeans, sneakers and tops and am as safe as any of the strangers. Go figure.
Leigh is right, its not what you look like or what people know you are by birth. They seem to believe in me because I believe in me and I relate to them as they would expect a person of my belief to relate to them.
If all it amounted to was how I looked or was dressed, I'd have been pounded into a mud puddle long ago. What they see is me, not my gender, thats the only way I can take it.