"Afraid of Knowing Where I Belong..."

Way back in 2001 or thereabouts, I wrote a song called "Pariah".  The lyrics are a bit cryptic, but it's basically about a person who goes crazy at work and starts singing and dancing in their cubicle until they're carried off.  Some of the lyrics, though, are less fantasy and more autobiography:

     Daring to dream I'm as good as you
     Was I made in His image, too?
     Once I thought I knew (Afraid of knowing where I belong)

Even then, I was acknowledging that I was afraid of knowing the truth about myself.  And I have been pretty successful in my denial.  In fact, for someone who is so introspective, my capacity for self-deception is astonishing.  Even as I type this, I hesitate in stating the unvarnished truth.

I want to be a woman.

There it is.  To be fair, I have long admitted that "in a perfect world", I would choose to live in a more feminine role.  If there were a third gender role, I would belong to that gender.  But this is the real, imperfect world, and it's time I confront what I really want for the rest of my life in this world.

I have been thinking about transition a lot in the past year or so.  Trying it on for size in my mind--if I transitioned to full-time womanhood, what would I do in this or that situation.  Most likely another transition--my wife's decline in health and the inevitable end of that decline--has been a stimulus, forcing me to examine what my life will be like after she's gone.  And middle age is a time to reexamine the road you're on.  Yesterday morning I was brought up short when I suddenly realized that I am already transitioning!

When did it start?  When I started coming out to people at church?  When I starting writing a transgender rock opera?  Or is it more recently, when I started laser hair removal on my face?  That was certainly taking it to a whole new level.  My decision to start coming to church services as Wendy was probably the real turning point.  At first I was a little ambivalent, but as I've grown more comfortable and confident I've gotten to the point that I'm reluctant to go as a male.  I've started going to other social events as a woman as well--keeping within my comfort zone, but pushing the envelope all the same.

There are other ways that I am not-entirely-consciously preparing the way for a full-time existence.  For quite some time I have been reluctant to spend any money on men's clothing.  I need to replace several articles of clothing that are becoming old and worn-out, but am uninterested in doing so.  I just can't bring myself to buy a new pair of men's shoes or shirts or underwear.  I am forever planning more hair removal on pretty much my entire body, and other cosmetic changes like a more feminine hairstyle and pierced ears (and forever procrastinating).

Beyond mere appearance, I have become more reluctant to identify myself as a man.  When my wife refers to me as her husband or as a man, I feel little gnat bites of pain in my heart.  I am beginning to identify more with my women friends and less with my men friends.  I have long counted myself a feminist, but take it more personally than I used to.  Generally, my gender dysphoria is on the increase.

So is it inevitable that I will transition to full-time womanhood?  I don't know.  There are so many rational reasons not to, reasons I have spelled out in other blog entries.  Who would choose to do something that could cost them family, friends, and employment?  Who would give up male privilege for the misogyny, inequality and downright belittlement women have to deal with all the time?  Even more, who in the world would want to be a visibly transgender woman and risk ridicule, harassment, violence and death at the hands of transphobic rednecks?  Who would transition in northeast Tennessee, for Pete's sake?!?

Can my rational and well-founded fears stop my heart's yearning?  Once I thought I knew.

Afraid of knowing where I belong...


 

Certainty

As I watch and listen to the emerging stories of transgender children, what strikes me the most is how certain they are about their gender.  They know they are boys or girls, in spite of what their parents and others say, in spite of what kind of bodies they were born with. I enjoy hearing these stories because they help validate the transgender experience, that this is something inborn and not caused by bad parenting or whatever.  At the same time, I'm troubled that the current transgender party line seems to be an emphasis on certainty; trans people are 100% sure of their gender, that there is no doubt and was never any doubt.  That doesn't jibe with my experience, though I did tell my mother when I was a small child that I wanted to be a girl.  It's safe to say that I'm not sure of much of anything, at least not for long (that's probably why I'm a Unitarian Universalist). 

So what am I sure of, as pertains to gender?

1. I know I like to wear women's clothing, jewelry, and makeup.  I've been doing it since the age of three, though my parents made it clear that it was not acceptable.
2. I want to look more like a woman.  I spend a lot of time thinking about what steps I can take to make myself look more feminine (under the radar).  I would prefer having a feminine hairstyle, more feminine curves, and a lot less body hair.
3. I usually feel a deep sense of peace and rightness when I'm in feminine mode.  When I look in the mirror and see a woman looking back at me, my soul says "yes". 
4. I'm generally more comfortable in the company of women than men.  I could care less about the things that most men talk about, while I often find women's conversations interesting.  All my healthcare providers (family doctor, dentist, optometrist, etc.) are women.  I like chick flicks--well, at least some of them.
5. I feel pretty comfortable interacting with people as a woman.  I feel more sociable, somehow.  And I like being addressed with a feminine name, pronouns, and honorifics.  I don't even mind it when someone calls me "ma'am" when I'm in male mode.
6. I'm very sensitive and empathetic.  It's not uncommon for me to get teary-eyed during a tender moment, or to feel real pain when seeing someone else suffer.

Does all this mean that I'm really a woman?  Beats me!  I really don't know what it means to be sure of your gender.  It just doesn't compute with me.  I'm sure that I'm me, that's all.  And I'm also sure that:

1. I've been socialized from birth as a male.  I know how to navigate social settings as a male pretty well.
2. I have a male body and am comfortable with my "plumbing".
3. I have a male voice.  Especially important for someone who sings, my voice falls within the male range.
4. I'm attracted to women.
5. I've built a career as a male and have generated a lot of good will that has helped me stay employed through numerous layoffs, corporate buyouts, etc.
6. Society often exacts a heavy price on those who publicly cross gender lines.  Sometimes it's marginally OK to change from one gender to the other, as long as you're never ambiguous and are certain about your gender identity (from birth, if possible).

So add all those things together, and what do you get?  I don't seem to fit comfortably anywhere.  I'm unable to pledge my allegiance to the idea that there's two, and only two genders.  Even if I someday transition to full-time womanhood, I don't think I'll ever be 100% certain.  Most likely I will always be a square peg.  But I'm not sure of that either.
 
 

My Dysphoria Ain't Like Dat-phoria

(Sorry for the title, but I couldn't resist.)

I think it's pretty hard for for people to understand my particular variety of transgender.  Heck, it's pretty hard for me to understand.  Mostly that's because of the conflict between our binary conception of gender and my internal gender, which I believe falls somewhere in between male and female.

Transsexuals have the advantages of a relatively easy set of metaphors (x trapped in a y body, etc.), and a clear destination (i.e., they identify fully with a particular gender).  I'm not saying that they have it easy--they don't.  I don't think any trans person has it easy.  But I think people have an easier time understanding transsexuals because they don't call the gender binary into question so much.

Then there's me.  I do experience gender dysphoria--there is a conflict between my internal (brain) gender and my body.  However, from all I've heard and been told, it is of a different order of magnitude from most transsexuals.  I discussed this in an earlier blog entry--I don't experience distress about my genitals.  But in large part, I do wish my body was more female-looking.  I feel better and more attractive when I'm in feminine mode.  In my case, it's mostly hair that distresses me most--the scarcity of it on top and the proliferation elsewhere.  Sometimes I do wish I had breasts, and smaller hands and feet.  Occasionally, I think about taking female hormones, but am frightened by the accompanying loss of male sexual function and the fact that it would become harder to pass as a man.  My voice is another source of conflict, as I love singing, doing impressions and generally using silly voices.  I'm getting a little better at using a more feminine-sounding voice as Wendy, but if I had to sacrifice my lower register permanently I would miss it.

I do think of transitioning to full-time female sometimes.  But, unlike most of my transsexual brothers and sisters, I would feel loss at giving up my male identity.  And since my gender dysphoria is not so severe that it overrides all other concerns, and absent a third gender role in society, I'm left with a choice.  I can transition to full-time female, which I believe would be a better fit in some ways.  However, I would most certainly lose my job, and given the fact that the IT pool is so small in this area, I would almost certainly be blacklisted and either have to take a job in another profession or move.  Since the state I live in does not recognize same-sex marriage, my marriage would be invalidated if I managed to get my gender legally changed to female--not good at any time, even worse given the state of my wife's health.  Furthermore, I would be a lesbian with male genitals, which would perhaps make me even more of a social pariah.  Of course I could have GRS (Genital Reassignment Surgery), but since I really have no desire to do that, it would be a surgery forced upon me by social pressure and not something I really wanted to do.  Oh, and some, perhaps all, of my family would cut off contact with me.  The employment difficulties mentioned before would no doubt force me to move, so I would be separated from my friends--and I don't make friends quickly or easily.  This is not a very appealing scenario.

The other choice is to remain as I am--living in a male role most of the time, spending enough time in a female role to keep me sane.  It's a compromise solution, but I get to keep my job, my family, the friends I treasure.  I'm lucky in that I have an accepting spouse and a church community that has thus far shown me nothing but love and support.  Right now I'm not thinking much about the future or how my circumstance or feelings may change in times to come.  I'm just taking one day at a time, grateful for what I have.