The moment I
begin to feel a little lonely…
Ok, men,
this first part may not apply to you as well, but if you are a feminist, you’ll
probably be able to empathize (and if you aren’t one, more than a few things on
this blog might not make sense). So women…
Imagine you
are walking down the street alone, on a street without many people (wherever).
You are minding your own business, and some guy catcalls you. It isn’t
inherently crude (it doesn’t mention any genitals at least), but it is
condescending and objectifying (as most catcalls are). It takes a few seconds
to get over your surprise, but then you quickly worry if this guy is going to
begin to give you (more) trouble. He doesn’t, but the comment made you mad and
your two seconds of fright just didn’t seem necessary. Later that night, while
having a drink with a close guy friend who generally acts like a concerned
feminist, you recount your day, including the cat-call story. You are clearly a
bit frustrated and maybe even sad that events like these are common…and you
just need to vent to a friend. And then, not meaning any harm whatsoever, your friend just says “Well,
he was really just trying to give you a complement. He didn’t mean any harm.”
How would
that feel?
That happens
to me (less so with actual catcalling), but instead having almost half the
population to vent to, I only have other trans people (which are slightly less
common). It sucks sometimes.
I generally
don’t talk about most of this stuff with most people, but here and there, being
trans in this world sucks. Like a
lot. As I explained in an earlier post, being a transgender person in and of itself does not suck. It kind
of rocks actually. However, the pressures and discrimination imposed on trans
people can really suck.
But I think
people tend to misunderstand me when I say that. I think people think that most
of the pressures I feel come from blatant, conscious, purposeful, transphobia.
And yes, I have encountered a little of that. I’ve dealt with straight-up
transphobic assholes (all but one have been men) a handful of times, but maybe
only twice here in CA and four times in NC (two of which were when I was much
younger). But for the most part, particularly in CA, these people comprise a
tiny bit of my frustration. Here, there is enough pro-trans thought and social
activism that I know I don’t have to worry too
much in a public place I am comfortable with and know (I tend not to
frequent places I wouldn’t be welcome).
No. Instead,
98% of the (non-internal) negative stuff I deal with comes from people who mean well. Or at the very least, don’t mean any harm. I’ll give you just
a few examples:
-This
quarter as a TA, I came out to my students the first day of class and asked
them to call me “BG.” They seem to like it…a number of the men even like to say
shout things like “Thanks BG,”
over-emphasizing “BG” like they are typical bros…which is also how some of my
friends in undergrad used to say it (so I like it). However, my name has not
yet been legally changed, so university records still say “Brian.” Most of my
students have no problem with this, but some just cannot seem to understand the
concept that I wouldn’t want to be called anything other than what the
university says I should be called…These students still call me “Brian,” which
I guess is ok…except it then confuses students who do call me BG, so I end up having to keep addressing this issue in
class. And it is starting to actually take time out of class, because I have
had to do it so much. So that alone is a little annoying. But the big kicker is
when an authority figure (either a professor or TA), insists on calling me
“Brian” (despite the fact that I asked to be called B months ago and even sent
a second e-mail to remind people) in
front of my students. It just feeds right back into the problem.
-The whole
80’s night from my earlier post. Not a single person in the bar (I think)
actually had any ill-will towards me
(or my friend). In fact, I think many of them were more than open to
interacting with trans people. Unfortunately, their genuine curiosity and
ignorance (of trans issues) outweighed their manners, empathy, and knowledge.
They totally meant well! It just kind
of sucked on our end.
-It has
gotten WAY better, but particularly early on, seeing that I was going through a
lot, a lot of people gave me a lot of
advice. I took almost all of the advice from trans people to heart and a decent
amount of advice from other queer people (and people who once identified as
queer). Unfortunately, I found that a lot of straight, cisgender friends tried
to give me quite a bit of advice on figuring out my identity and presenting
myself. Some of the latter, I totally took to heart, but I have found that
almost across the board, people living in and accepting the gender system tend
not to understand the intricacies of being trans, feeling gender dyphoria, and/or
rejecting the accepted gender system. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not saying that
cisgender people can’t understand
trans-people or deconstruct gender like a trans person does. I am saying that
most cisgender people, without doing a significant amount of gender
self-exploration (like the type I only even began after I came out) and doing
significant research on trans issues, will in no way have a better hold on what
I am going through than I do. Don’t get me wrong, I have definitely received
great advice from cisgender people, but it has been a tiny percent of the
advice I have received. Obviously, I can just ignore bad advice. But can I?
When intelligent, caring, close friends tell me they are concerned about
something I am/should/shouldn’t be doing, it can be difficult to just ignore
them. Plus, I will be the first to admit that I often feel lost and confused
and if I have to choose between trusting myself or trusting close
friends/mentors, unfortunately, I lose. So I listen. But the advice tends to
discourage some recent revelation or idea I’ve had (from wearing nail polish to
starting HRT). So I begin to get doubts. But when I convince myself they are
right, my inner-self starts to be convinced that I was right all along. And
then I end up with this long, internal struggle over who and what I am,
because honestly I do not trust
myself right now, haha. So when I get bad advice from cisgender people, I used
to try to explain my point of view, but it rarely had an effect, so after
months of this, I learned to merely smile and nod and ignore most advice…It’s
the best defensive mechanism I have against long, drawn-out personal struggles.
But of course, all of these people mean
well! They mean super well! They are so concerned about me, because they really
do care about me!!! Some of them even
love me. No one tries to make me feel
bad.
-Being
misgendered often and/or in very difficult/awkward situations.
-I feel
tokenized. It isn’t super common, but here and there, it seems like certain
people only care about me, because I am trans. That’s all they want to talk about it, but they don’t really seem like they
want to understand. It more seems like they want to understand just enough so
that they can recount something that their (token) trans friend said to them.
Often, if not always, it is 100% innocent, and on a certain level, it is kind
of awesome that people are proud to
have a trans friend. But it isn’t as awesome to only be a (non-queer person’s)
friend because I am trans, rather
than because of who I am.
- I am
hanging out with friends in public. I am presenting entirely feminine and am
clearly just trying to go incognito
(i.e. I am trying to just “pass” as one gender or the other, because sometimes
looking non-binary just isn’t worth the attention it draws…particularly if I plan on going to the bathroom in public [see pic below]). Even though
I have long asked to be referred to as “her/she” when presenting feminine in
public, and more recently, I have asked be called “her/she” all of the time (to
help get rid of confusion), my friends, in the span of one conversation, end up
calling me “he/him” at least a dozen times. They don’t even realize they are
doing it. They are talking about me in the third person and I have been he/him
for 24 years. It is hard for them to remember. I totally get it! But here is
what goes through my mind: Each “he” is a small stab to my side. I’m not at all
hurt or insulted…it is just a reminder that my friends still don’t see me how I
see myself and how I want to be seen. It is also a bit stabbing, because I
slowly begin to notice the people sitting (or standing one time) near us
overhear this and start to wonder about me. Of course, most people do NOT
notice, but I feel like everyone
does, largely because of personal insecurities about being trans that I am
nowhere near getting past. However, one or two people do notice that the girl at the other table is being called “he,”
which causes them to look closer at me and pay attention to my voice…and they
realize that I am not a cisgender girl. Which can be ok. I am not ashamed to be
trans. In fact, I am proud of it. But that doesn’t mean I want it to be a
central issue in my life every single time I go out. These people will probably
never, ever say a word to me. But they do start to stare. And then I have to
spend an hour or two pretending that I don’t notice the middle-age couple at
the next table staring at me (but trying to pretend they aren’t) and
whispering. But here is the kicker
for this one. After a while of this, I try to quietly, politely, and
understandingly remind/ask my friends to use feminine pronouns. I don’t make a
big deal. I don’t talk about my thoughts or feelings. I am just trying to point
out when my pronouns are slipping their mind (which I DO completely
understand). But when I do ask them, they probably feel a little bad and/or
embarrassed and end up getting a little defensive (as if I had angrily criticized them or something) and point out that it is
so hard to remember, and that “it really
doesn’t matter…They love me no matter what. And no one else in the
restaurant/bar/winery/wherever cares” (emphasis added). I had hoped the
reminder would go a little better, but at least I did it. But then, I only get
two “she’s” before it goes right back to he/him. After the last time I tried to
change it, I decide to just accept being misgendered for the rest of the night.
The last part of that last example is what this post is really about. It happens all the time. Over time, or when I have a bad day, or just need to vent, or just want to chat, etc., I want to tell someone about these experiences I have, particularly if they are experiences that are entirely foreign to most people. That seems like a normal reaction, right? Ok, so I explain and do my best to give these people a pass, because of their good intentions. But then, at least 95% of the time, I will get one of the following reactions.”
“Oh, well I
am sure he/she/they didn’t mean it that way.”
“Well, they meant well.”
“Well, I’m
sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“I think
that is a perfectly normal reaction. If I didn’t know you, I’m not sure I would
do any different.”
“Well I
doubt they did it on purpose. It was
probably an accident/They probably just forgot.”
“They didn’t
mean any harm. They are really just trying to watch out for what is best for
you.”
etcetera
I know. I know. I know. I know that these people don’t mean any harm. I know that (probably)
no one reading this means any harm.
And I do not blame them/you. At all. It happens.
But just because people don't mean any harm (and I can recognize
that), do I therefore have no right to feel how they make me feel?
I was going to try to come up with a ridiculous Hitler
analogy to drive my point home, but I've been TA'ing for North American Indians
and I may have a better one. For hundreds of years, many, many, many Europeans
and their descendants truly believed that they were doing the right thing for Native Americans (e.g.
they became "civilized," they adopted Christianity and gave up their
heathen religions, they were moved to reservations to protect them from western-moving
settlers, etc.). But just because many of the arbitrators of cultural genocide
believed they were doing the right thing, does that mean that Native American's
had/have no right to air their grievances?
Good intentions and ignorance do not neutralize nor do they justify bad actions.
When I complain to a friend about something that happened to
me, I want to do exactly that...complain about something that happened to
me...not what someone did to me. There are definitely a few exceptions to this,
but the vast majority of the time when I am having these issues, I don't get
angry, make any personal attacks on anyone, or place any blame (inwardly or outwardly). I just sometimes need to
vent to friends.
But 95% of the time, when I tell a friend about something
that happened to me, I will just be told one of the phrases mentioned above. And
while these friends also mean the best, when their first reaction
to my pain or frustration is to see and defend the other point of view (rather
than see mine), it can be extremely alienating. It's one of the biggest reasons
why I feel like I am entirely alone, even when I am surrounded by people
sometimes.
A couple months ago, after mentioning to a close cisgender
friend that there are certain topics that I really only feel like I can talk
about with other trans people, this friend got a little hurt that I couldn't
open up to them about certain things and when I tried to explain why, they
didn't see my point of view. The next day,
something happened that make me feel really crappy and when I told this friend,
their first response was "Well Bee, I know this may not be what you want
to hear, but I am sure they didn't mean any harm."
I don't need anyone to understand my point of view. I don't
need them to always be on my side. I just wish that the default in
conversations with people wasn't to take the other side, to take the cisgender
rather than transgender side. There
is no cisgender or transgender side. Just people. Some of which are cisgender
and some of which are transgender. I hate that some of my closest friends can
see a stranger's point of view way easier than they can see mine.
So please, if I open up to you about something crappy and
you can't quite understand how I feel or why I feel that way, if you care about
me and can see that I am hurt, just say "That sucks." Just the
tiniest bit of (even fake) empathy would be so
much better than just empathy for anyone else in my story, particularly because
I am rarely complaining about them, but am just explaining what happened to me.
