Trans Thoughts

It’s been over a year since my “coming out” post and I’ve been giving the issues it discusses a lot of thought lately. At the time I said I didn’t have any gender dysphoria and wasn’t trans. It didn’t explicitly state that the second statement was a conclusion based on the first, but it’s pretty strongly implied.

That is not a cooincidence. At the time, I thought dysphoria was part and parcel of being trans, and that all trans people had it. At the time, I also had a very limited understanding of what gender dysphoria is.

On deeper reflection, I do experience some degree of gender dysphoria. Towards the end of my post, I get all angsty about not being able to be myself, to wear the clothes I want to, to style my hair the way I want, to (openly) do some of the stuff I enjoy. That’s an example of the dysphoria I do experience.

It’s not crippling. It’s not so bad that I have difficulty functioning, and, mostly I can just ignore it. (Which I am thankful for, many people have a much more difficult time with these things than me, and I feel for them.) But ignoring things doesn’t make them go away.

Over the years, there have been subtle signs. (Including a lot of the stuff mentioned  towards the end of my previous post.) When I started playing tabletop roleplaying games, the first character I created was female. A significant portion of subsequent characters have been female as well. Nearly all of my video game avatars (when given a choice) are female.

I recently started a game, was initially going to make a female character, had a weird feeling that I shouldn’t, and made a male character instead. Literally the first time I used the in-game character customization feature, I changed my character’s features to be more feminine.

On the other tentacle, in the Super Mario franchise, I prefer to play as Toad, the most ambiguous character in a cast of fairly strongly gendered protagonists. I’m also not saying that all people who cross-gender roleplay are trans; I’m sure most of them aren’t, this is just something I noticed in my own behavior as I dug deeper into my feelings.

Over the years, I’ve told myself that it’s so much easier (and safer) to be a hetero cis male than a lesbian trans female. The fact that I even have to occasionlly remind myself of this is telling.

That said, I wouldn’t describe myself as trans-female, or a trans-woman. Trans-feminine (which is a term I only recently came across) seems more accurate. Deep down, I am more effeminate than is considered socially acceptable for my assigned gender. I generally hide it, but feeling forced to do so does cause me some degree of distress.

I have pretty severe social anxiety, and while I’ve embraced the fact that I’m weird and a geek, I still feel the omipresent pressure to fit in. As the song says, “I wish that I could be like the cool kids.” The views of my friends and family make this even worse.

I don’t think there’s a single person I’m really close to that is actually accepting of trans people. Even of those that aren’t outright anti-LGBTQ bigots, there are none I’m sure of. If I were to transition (whatever that might mean for me), there’s a real possibility I might loose everyone. There a few friends I don’t see very often and some acquaintances that I pretty sure of, but that’s it.

And that scares the hell out of me.

Coming Out

Shortly after National Coming Out Day, I read an article encouraging strait people not to ignore the day as not relevant to them and use the opportunity to stand up for LGBTQ rights. Unfortunately, the day had already passed. Furthermore, I was too cowardly to have taken the advice anyway. With my family, I felt it wasn’t worth the risk. Today I decided to change that, and I’m not waiting until next year to do it.

My entire childhood I was lied to. I was told that homosexuals (which was not the term used) were terrible people. I believed this lie until high school. One day in middle school, I told a friend of mine (what I thought at the time was) a funny story about a gay bashing. He didn’t think it was funny, but he didn’t say much about it and I was puzzled at why he didn’t laugh. Now I know why; I’m still ashamed.

Once I was in high school, I actually found out some of my friends were gay. As I already knew they were good people, the lie fell apart. I’ve got friends, associates, and relations across the entire LGBTQ spectrum. So when my father said he was “in favor of a little gay bashing,” but thought the Orlando nightclub shooting was “a little much.” it made me sick. Who’s really the terrible person here?

I haven’t worked up the nerve to ask him if he really believes that it’d be acceptable for his grand-niece to be brutally beaten just because she happens to like girls, so long as she’s not actually killed. I hope not, but at this point, none of his bigotry surprises me anymore.

I’m a gynecophilic cis-male with atypical gender expression. Anyone who knows me knows that I grow my hair and fingernails longer than is usually considered masculine. I’m effeminate enough that when I was younger I got mistaken for a female fairly often. (Today, I’d probably have to shave.) At first this annoyed me; but as I grew to accept myself, I eventually stopped correcting people.

I’m not trans: I’ve never experienced any gender dysphoria or seriously considered transitioning. But it is something I’ve thought about. It’s because of this contemplation that I identify as (mostly) gynecophilic rather than heterosexual. My attraction remains towards females even when I imagine myself as one. I say mostly because I’d be lying if I said there hadn’t been a few guys that caught my eye.

But I’m not sure anybody really knows me. A few people have seen me in a dress or pig-tails, but for the most part, I say firmly in the closet. When I find a dress or skirt I like, I sigh wistfully and put it out of my mind. “You’d get disowned,” I tell myself. Maybe I show a female friend who I think’ll appreciate it, but mostly they don’t (perhaps my taste is terrible).

So, if you’ve ever wondered about the Q in LGBTQ; wondered who that might be. That’s me; I am queer.