GenderBendy

Yay, Pride!

In a few hours I will joyously march with my dear friends behind the MaineTransNet banner in the Portland Pride Parade.  We've gotten a lovely day for it.  My darling Deb is going to march with us, which makes me happy... :-)  I'll be wearing a gorgeous red yellow green wrap-around skirt which she gave me which was at Woodstock, my elegant white top with the silver bead-work at the collar, the red flip-flops with the sparkles in the cork, and of course dangly earrings...  I hope I'll see you there...  :-)

helpful link 

Happy Pride!  :-)

Quite the gala evening

Last Saturday night on a freebie ticket from a friend of a friend I attended EqualityMaine's annual awards dinner at the Holiday Inn in Portland.  I wasn't sure how toney this event would be so my outfit combined formal and more casual elements:  the gorgeous green brocade top Sis Sus gave me, over my still-new-and-dark jeans, over those reliable old standbys my Walmart open-toed black pumps...plus the new pink pink scarf, my most dangly dangly earrings (and a few other pieces of jewelry), and full but (I hope) classily subdued makeup.  My hair is long enough now that I can just wear it loose to good effect.  I specifically wanted to look not dressed in drag.  I was going for straight elegant femme, and I believe I came close to pulling it off.  Yay!  :-)  As it turned out jeans were underdressy, but not too bad. 

Anyway...

The crowd was all ages but skewed 35 and older, prosperous-looking, and overwhelmingly white.  It quickly became apparent that there was a lot of money and power in the room.  (Someone gave me a tip on how to pick out the most influential people...they're the ones not wearing name tags.)  I did not realize until this party how formidable a voting bloc and fund-raising force the LGBT community has become.  There were a couple of dozen state legislators in the room, and a philanthropist or two as well. 

The gender balance was 50-50, and there were lots of touches of cross-dressing (Father Dawn looked particularly sharp in her shirt and tie)...but not many fully cross-dressed as I was.  Which brings up the main question I had going in:  how much T was there going to be really in this LGBT evening?

There was some.  Once or twice specifically trans causes or issues were mentioned.  The bulk of the evening, however, was given over to looking back at the ballot fight for marriage equality, and forward to the next round of that fight.  Now, I whole-heartedly support the rights of any two people to marry who want to...but I also feel compelled to point out that this is more purely an L and G issue than a T one.  To take myself as an example, one very possible outcome of my narrative is being a woman in a committed relationship with a man, all nice and mainstream.  True, there is a confusing variety of definitions from state to state of what constitutes a "man" and a "woman", and I might also end up hitched to another woman, so I definitely do still have a personal stake in this issue.  Just not quite so inevitably as a gay man or lesbian.

Meanwhile, "gender expression" still appears much less often than "sexual orientation" on the lists of reasons for which the nation's multitude of organizations, companies, municipalities, governments, etc. will not discriminate.  I was not legally protected, for example, from being fired for being trans when I worked recently for the U.S. Census.  In important areas trans rights lag behind those of gays and lesbians, and I didn't hear much about that.

That said, I found the evening inspiring.  I felt moved by the individual narratives of some of the award-winners, and marvellously buoyed by the intense sense of community and mutual support in the room.  So, in sum, while I didn't quite feel that I had arrived in the bosom of a new ready-made community, I certainly felt welcomed and included, and had a great time.

Two more fun insights:  Femme mode turns out to be useful for avoiding people I've known as a man and don't want to talk to...one such looked right at me and didn't recognize me at all.  That was good for a secret smile.  And, I not only enjoyed, as I always do, going out dressed as a woman; I also enjoyed going out not dressed as a man.  What a revelation:  I may never have to wear a suit and tie again as long as I live.  Wow.  I can so live with that.  :-)

Full femme debut at work today (just for a minute)

There's a transgender conference happening on the USM Portland campus today, where I work, and I have agreed to be on an "ask a trans person" panel.  It's from 1:30 to 3pm.  Originally I was going to take the whole day off to do this, but why?  I don't need all day to change any more...I don't even need an hour.  And I'm totally out at work.  So yesterday I asked my boss if he minded if I changed here at the station before walking over, and he said that would be fine...

...so later today I'll be taking half an hour in the bathroom to shave, do my makeup, put on my skirt and top and pantyhose and heels and jewelry and scarf (not necessarily in that order), and then I'll step out into the hall and get my coat and purse and walk out the front door and across campus. 

Yeah, I have butterflies, but not too bad.

My one unanswered question...should I prep my coworkers, or just appear on the scene?  To prep might be to make too much of it; to just appear might make someone more uncomfortable.  I am pleased to feel that I can trust myself to make the best choice in the moment.

First Event day one

So I dressed and did my makeup and headed south, in a tizzy again.  I may have been working hard on this for a year, but I'm still a noob.  I forgot my lunch and my planner book, but decided not to go back for them.  Trans conference here I come.

I wore my red skirt with the spangles and the new embroidered white top which my sister gave my daughter for Christmas, and which she didn't like...quelle domage! :-).  Plus, low heels, makeup including this new outrageous purple-with-sparkles eyeshadow I picked up on a whim the other day, and jewelry including my favorite cheapo but elegant-looking dangly earrings.  And I had blowdried my hair with the curling brush the way Sue at Clip and Snip showed me...I'm getting the hang of that.

Today for sure I'll ask someone to take my picture and post it.  I was feeling too diffident yesterday.  [note added 15 hours later...new profile pic at right taken today :-)]

I spent a lot of time in sessions which were essentially pitches by plastic surgeons, complete with before-and-after slides of genital and facial surgeries.  Yes, I am comparison shopping.  There is some amazing work being done.  There was one guy who was really aggressive and loud, and I thought, I like his work, but he would intimidate me in consults...I couldn't work with him.  Being bold about being shy...

There were a couple of other transitioned women there who really had the voice thing down...I want to seek them out again today and ask them about their voice work.

Some encounters...I had a nice conversation with effervescent 70-something Billie Bliss and her new girlfriend.  Billie talked about the hugger-mugger of crossdressing in the 60's.  And Hope very kindly asked to join my at my solo table at lunch, when I was sitting there feeling lonely and exposed, and I listened to her story of crossdressing within marriage.  She didn't come out to her wife for almost a decade of marriage, but they are still together post-revelation.  The wife is accepting but doesn't want to see her dressed.

There were a few big-hair spangly-dress women there, but they were not the majority which my dazzled memory of last year conjured up.  Most everyone there was a lot like me...trying to fit their long jaws and big shoulders into some kind of femme look.  Most people seemed to be feeling as I felt...tentative and a little stiff, but so happy to be out in the world.  For the first time in my life I have a group which I, the real I, can really join, and I struggle to understand how to do that.  Feeling slightly apart has been the habit of a lifetime.  It's hard to just stop.

My last session of the day was a little gathering of politically active trans folks led by Denise LeClair, a Washington-based activist.  I sat quietly and listened and began to realize that some of the real movers and shakers of trans USA were in that room.  I felt too bashful to participate much, but now there are some important folks who someday, if I ever need to, I can approach with "You won't remember me, but we met at..."  I did chat with Denise after (we have a curious personal connection - her brother is the partner of my former spouse), and did a pronoun-slip with her...I hate it when I do that!  *SQUIRM*!  I corrected and apologized immediately, and she said it was all right, obviously completely not upset.  I continue to learn about letting things like that roll off...

OK, gotta get going for my visit today.  I'm going to try to network more, and I have a free consult with one of the premier surgeons in the late afternoon...dangerous to be doing that, with regard to setting the transition-ache going again, but I have to seize the chance.

Bigotry as Motivation

Last Sunday I went shopping dressed as a woman.  In the parking lot of the Goodwill store in Biddeford there was an awkward driving moment:  a grey-haired, bearded man in denim overalls was standing looking over is shoulder, waiting for a companion to join him, and he glanced once at me and then away, so I thought he was waiting for me to drive by and sped up a little, and then he stepped forward so that I had to veer slightly to go around him.  As I passed he peered into the car, did a double-take, and then shouted after me, "faggot!"

This calls to mind another incident recently when, once again, I was driving in femme mode and entered a tricky intersection I had never been in before and accidentally passed a couple of other drivers who were waiting to merge...they looked parked...and one of them, a dark-bearded guy in a jacked-up pickup, accelerated up next to me and gave me a baleful glare and the finger.  At the time I put it down to random rage, but now it seems that the extra level of hostility might have been based on another quick read.

I haven't been called "faggot" since junior high and high school, when (for reasons unknown to me at the time), I wore my hair very long and was often mistaken for a girl.  Perhaps the difference between adolescent boys and grown men in the US today is that grown men stay polite in person, but still feel free to express their bigotry when there's the buffer of glass and motion between.

Anyway, I was dismayed for a while (partly about being read so fast), but I administered chocolate and wine and felt better.

The next day, in the evening, I went to the No On 1 office in Ogunquit to help with a volunteer-recruiting phone bank.  (For any out-of-state readers, we're attempting to defeat a people's veto which will be on the ballot in November of our new law allowing same-sex marriages in Maine.)  At the beginning of every volunteer gathering we go around the room and say our name, where we're from, how we self-identify, and what motivates us to volunteer.  It was a big group, so we were held to one word each on the motivation question, and I just used one of the standard ones...but sitting there waiting my turn I realized I had a whole new reason.  If I could have had a paragraph instead of one word I would have said: 

I'm here tonight to radicalize bigotry.  I want there to be so many gay and lesbian couples just out being themselves in all the everyday places of our country, and for that matter, so many crossdressed and otherwise gender-variant people just out being themselves in all the everyday places of our country, that the great majority of Americans will come to accept us as completely normal.  Then the few genuine haters left, the committed bigots, will start to seem more and more reactionary...and I guess they can go huddle in their basements and regurgitate and re-swallow their bile if they want, there's no stopping that, it should still be a free country...but I want to work for a time when shouting "faggot" in a parking lot will be as acceptable in our society as going into a restaurant and taking a crap on some stranger's dinner plate.  I want the great majority to see using such a word as as ugly as it feels to be on the receiving end of such a word.  That's what brings me here tonight.

I made sixty calls, signed up three volunteers, and got six supporters to pledge to donate.  I guess maybe they could hear my zeal...  :-)

Engaging Senator Nass

I was out this morning (in male mode) as a volunteer for the No On 1 campaign, asking folks at the Cornish Apple Festival to sign cards pledging to help preserve Maine's new law allowing same sex couples to marry by voting against the people's veto of that law which will be on the November ballot.  I approached a distinguished-looking gentleman of late middle age who was standing watching the crowd.  He had a conservative haircut, intelligent eyes, and a superior expression.  He agreed to give me a minute, so I went into my spiel.

"Hi, I'm Dave, I live in Wells, and I'm a volunteer with the No On 1 campaign..."  I got no farther.  He interrupted and told me that he was Richard Nass, my state Senator, that he had voted against the law, and that he would be voting for the "repeal," as he put it.

We're trained to move on if someone says they're a "yes" vote, but this guy was my elected official, so I stayed and engaged him.  I asked him what his objection was.  He had the practiced politician's slipperiness.  He lectured me on the theory of people's vetos, as though the existence of a provision in our state's constitution allowing them meant that all such measures should pass.  He told me he had taken an active role in extending civil rights to non-married couples, as though the playing field has been completely leveled (far from it.)  And he talked about the burden to the state of taking care of "all these children." 

The unspoken prejudice behind this last point seemed clear:  that gay and lesbian couples can't be good parents.  As a trans-parent I found that personally offensive and called him on it, or tried to.  I tried a couple of times.  He wouldn't answer, dodging neatly into tangents about policy.

I found myself really wanting to reach this guy.  I asked him if, as his constituent, I could tell him where I was coming from on the issue.  He said I could, so I told him that I had been married for 16 years as a man to a woman.  That post divorce I'm living in Wells and that my children live with me half time.  That I'm trans and may someday become a woman.  That I'm still attracted to women and may someday want to marry a woman again.  And I asked him, if that happened, if he thought I would no longer be a fit parent, to my own children, to her children, to children we might have together.

He did not answer the question.  Once again he evaded.  By this point I wanted to get away, so I shook Mr. Nass's hand, thanked him for his time, and walked off shaking.  He was standing with another man and I heard one of them say to the other as I passed out of earshot, "Yeah, there's a lot of them here today," and the word them had that unmistakable tinge of smug dismissal it can so easily be given.

I was feeling upset so I called Levi, the campaign coordinator who was leading our little group of canvassers, on his cell phone and asked him to come talk me down.  He came and sat with me on a porch.  He listened to me vent.  He was supportive and helpful...but he also couldn't help smiling a little, watching me struggle to come to terms for the first time at a personal level with the complacent bigotry of the privileged straight white male elite.  What was hardest for me to stomach was how impervious the man was:  ensconced in his comfortable world view, secure in his power, and behind his courteous front clearly contemptuous of me, having in an instant decided who I was. 

I continue to learn what it is to be "other."  It is not pleasant learning, but definitely valuable. 

Besides being given a useful lesson about people and politics, I gathered 21 signatures, identified a new volunteer, changed (apparently) at least one person from a "yes" to a "no", and munched my way through a huge Rome apple so fresh off the tree the dusty bloom was still on it.  All in all, a fruitful morning...ba-ba-boom.  :-)

Aftermath, part II

My greatest insecurity has nothing to do with being trans.  It has to do with parenting.  My father died when I was 15 years old, and so since my daughter passed that same age I have felt myself to be flying blind, making up parenthood as I go along.  How much am I still exclusively taking care of them, and how much is it healthy that as developing adult selves they should start taking it upon themselves to take care of me?  Some, it would seem.  More as we go on.  Soon we will be equals, loving each other equally across a little negligible fence of generation, hardly worth noticing.

I told my children that I felt myself to be a woman, and they responded with love, and that is perhaps the most precious gift I have even been given.  I am still telling them.  This is a long telling, with many steps.  I will make sure they know that I am still the parent, they the offspring, but that will mean less and less as time goes on.  It is an honor and a miracle to have lived long enough to learn this truth.

The biggest development of all is, for the first time in my life, as my children and my siblings and my friends respond warmly to my news, I begin to feel loved for who I truly am.  What a remarkable, joyous sensation.  I can hardly stand it.  And yet, I begin to dare to rejoice.

And now the question is, what will I do with the time left me?  It is a generous portion, with any luck.  I can accomplish much.  Time to get busy.

Introducing...

Hi, my name is Lisa.  I spent the first 46 years of my life living as a simple ordinary man.

Then, last fall, shortly after passing the age my father was when he died, and having just narrowly avoided a major accident on the highway, I suddenly realized that my internal sense of self is, and always has been, feminine.  Surprise!

Since then, I have been working to understand what this revelation means for me, my family, my friends, my work...my life.  I have been crossdressing, and have started going out into the world in femme mode when I can.  It feels amazingly good.

Will I end up transitioning some day?  Hormones, surgery?  That's an open question at this time.  (Check out my femme-ache tracker under "Pages.")

Currently single, will I end up with a male or female partner?  Likewise an open question.  (One or the other would be nice...)

What I do know:  trans is real, and affects the lives of many, and there's a lot of confusion and ignorance about it.  Hence, this blog.  It's me wanting to say "Lookit me!", of course, but it's also my entry into activism in this cause by which I have been chosen.  I want to do all I can to make the world a safer, more welcoming place for transfolk of all kinds.

If you would like to read an on-line article about my first few months post-revelation, it is here.

So I hope you'll stop by again for juicy installments of my continuing saga, for (I hope) thoughful discussion of aspects of gender, and for connections to the world of trans.  Thanks for reading!