unanswered questions

Yesterday I found myself at a loss to answer the question "Why did you move to New York?"

The answer is actually rather straightforward; I moved to NYC in 2005 because I had just graduated from college and decided that I wanted to pursue transition of some sort, and live as male. I knew moving to a new city would enable me to introduce myself whoever I chose, and what better city than The City, the place where everyone goes to reinvent themselves? More importantly, though, I knew that my reinvention-of-self would require very specific medical care, legal advice, and social navigation, and I knew that New York City is one of the few places where I could easily tap into support systems for all of those needs.

But the person who asked me this question is not (to my knowledge) aware of my transsexual history, and while we have a good friendship and working relationship, I haven't yet found the opportunity to broach the subject with him. It's made more complicated by the fact that I quite like this guy, and trust him, and would like to share things with him. I think someday I probably will disclose, because I sometimes do share deeply personal information about myself with my friends. Not to mention the fact that he's a philosopher by trade, and I like talking to him about all manner of things just to get his erudite perspective.

It's made yet more complicated by the fact that he is technically my boss. There is no law in my state prohibiting discrimination on the basis of gender identity, and I am an at-will employee. Although I have absolutely no reason to suspect that this man (or any of my coworkers) would react in an unpleasant manner to learning this about me, knowing that I would have no recourse if something did happen adds a layer of hesitation to any thoughts of disclosing in the workplace.

At any rate, I ended up fumbling along with some of the other smaller reasons ("Who doesn't want to move to NYC? Some of my friends were moving...I thought I could get a job at XX place...) and I don't think he noticed my awkwardness, but I sure felt it. It occurs to me that I could've just said "I knew that I would be needing some specific medical care that would be easier to access in New York."

It's true, but it doesn't necessitate the big Reveal of my transsexual history, which is still an awkward topic for me to naturally bring up in conversation.

I'd like to be able to be more more matter of fact about bringing up my transsexuality in conversation with people who are unaware. My gender history always feels like such a bombshell to drop into conversation. I don't know if it really is, or if it just feels that way to me. I've never had anyone revel a transsexual history to me when I didn't already anticipate it.

Of course, it's possible that folks already know that I'm trans, whether through the grapevine or shrewed Googling or what, but it seems unlikely to me. I'm trying to think about the the times I've had conversations with folks where they've opened up about big, deeply personal things in their lives- having been adopted, for instance. It hasn't happened to me that often, and I don't think (again, this could be my own bias) that any of these revelations have been of quite the...sensationalistic variety that transsexualism is assumed to be.

I wish I could give folks a little questionnaire after I have my inevitably awkward coming out conversation with them, so I could get feedback and figure out how much of the awkwardness is in my head, and/or how to minimize the awkwardness.

For now, I'll continue to leave some questions unanswered.

End hiatus

Gosh, it's been a while since I've posted. More than two months, in fact! My 3rd year of being on T slipped by during that time, without much notice. Really, year three doesn't feel much different than year two...which I suspect is the crux of these writing gaps. My transition (and the entirety of my gender, really) isn't as interesting to me as it used to be. I foretold this, and I'm not surprised about it, but how quickly the memory of angst disappears! It's nice to feel normal, and it's seductive- I am reminded daily why it's so hard for people to raise their consciousness when they've never had their privileges challenged, and why cissexual (that is, non-transexual) people sometimes find it so hard to understand what gender dysphoria really means.

It's so comfortable having my gender identity and physical sex be in sync! Almost hard for me to empathize with gender variant folks, and I used to BE a gender variant person! Heck, I still am, in some ways, but they're very different ways.

Anyway, I've got dishes to do and sleep to get, but I'd like to start writing in this again. Just because my life isn't angsty anymore doesn't mean it isn't still interesting, and I'd like to keep making this record for myself and my friends and family and any who might find it helpful.

So I'll end this post with my old standby easy-out: pictures!

First is me in early spring sunshine with my beard at its wooliest, sometime in March:

Then a somewhat more restrained beard picture from about the same time-

Mostly to contrast with the below picture from a year ago (may 2008) to show that yes, my beard pattern is filling in. I thought I looked quite good at the time, but it looks so patchy to me now, alas.
I sure was skinny- I've put on some padding since leaving NYC, aka the land of walking everywhere.

And here are two shots from tonight- recently clean shaven for the summertime (my coworkers tell me it makes me look about 13, alas, so it probably won't last long), and then a topless photo just because.

In August it'll be 3 years since my surgery with Dr. Brownstein.

Emerging from winter

Time for another picture update, perhaps? I'm a bit fuzzy, pasty and plump after the most recent New England winter, but I couldn't get a good shot of my pot belly without revealing too much! Maybe next time.



I feel as though I haven't changed much in the past year, but perhaps that's just because the changes are happening much more slowly. When I look back at pictures from a year ago, I can see how my beard looks spindlier by comparison, and how my musculature continues to fill out. I'm no longer in my tip-top New York City shape (I forgot until I went back for a visit how much baseline walking is involved in being a Manhattanite!), so my t-given muscles are a little more padded these days, but I don't mind my plumpness, not least because it's an ever more masculine plumpness, spare-tire style. I feel a bit goofy for thinking these thoughts at all, as though I haven't any more pressing concerns than where on my body my adipose layer is thickest, but it's these little things sometimes that add up to the proof of the pudding as to why my transition was necessary.

grrr

Oh man, I just had my hackles raised. I read Andrew Sullivan's blog over at the Atlantic, and while some of his conservative politics make me roll my eyes, I generally appreciate his insights; it can be quite refreshing to see the world through a perspective not aligned with one's own. Anyway, there's been a rather casual thread of posts in the past few days (see here and here) about trans athletes, and whether we (specifically trans women, actually) ought to be allowed to compete. Nothing wrong with that, until I read the most recent post.

A reader wrote in to correct something he'd said, and Andrew wrote: "I'm grateful for the info. I'll note merely the tone. If the trans community really does want to help educate, inform and guide public policy, as they should, a little less fury, derision and anger might help. Especially with respect to people generally deeply sympathetic."

Gah!

One of the most infuriating things in the world, regardless of what issue is actually at stake, is when a self-righteous 'ally' tries to tell a member of a minority group that the group should be quieter, not so loud in their complaints, grateful for what help they get, etc. It's a patronizing position that comes from privilege. Only someone with the luxury of being outside a struggle can say what amounts to "Stop being angry that we're oppressing you!"

It's such a defensive posture, and I'm sick of it.

Come to think of it, it's a very conservative, assimilationist viewpoint, one that I shouldn't be quite so surprised to hear Andrew espousing.

And this post plays right into that same trope of the Angry Transsexual (or Angry Black Man, or Angry Feminist), naturally.

Update: Ha! I wrote to Andrew, and got back the following:
"eli
my point proven.
jeez you guys need to lighten up.
andrew"

transphobia?

What does it mean when something's transphobic? Like homophobic (the undoubted inspirational term), it means to words or actions or behaviors that are anti-trans- I generally take it to mean something that is unfair, hurtful, offensive or meanspirited, and negatively affects trans people, whether directly or indirectly. Today I read an offhand comment that had been made on a friend's journal, and I felt moved to respond, telling the author that I felt it was transphobic.

She had made a comment along the lines of "many transpeople are often selfish jerks while they transition!" and I had responded with "Hey, that's offensive. People are jerks all the time for all kinds of various reasons, and yet transfolks are the ones who routinely get chastised/written off for being "selfish" and "assholes" while we're trying to navigate an insanely difficult and stressful period of our lives. It's the kind of transphobic double standard that makes me wont to paraphrase Bella Abzug: we'll know we've won when an asshole transperson gets cut neither more nor less slack than an asshole non-trans person."

We talked it out via a few more comment exchanges, and I think I understand her perspective. She was making the point that transition is not a get-out-of-jail free pass, which is an exceedingly legitimate point. It's still not okay to be a selfish jerk, regardless of the 'reason' or stressful factors. I had moments in my early transition when I was self-centered, and I regret them, and I believe I mostly apologized to the people I slighted at the time. Equitable standards work both ways- just as we shouldn't be held to stricter scrutiny of when/why we're being jerks, we don't get to complain that it's not out fault, it's just all this pressure! For instance, the myth that taking testosterone turns one into an angry moody sex-fiend, seemingly held and perpetuated by trans and non trans folks alike. Yes, testosterone has effected significant changes in my emotional stability, the length of my fuse, and my sex drive. It's called self-control. I think going through transition is in many ways a second (or extended, in my case, since I started transition about 19) adolescence, and while we take it for granted that teens are often moody, angsty, and self-centered, we also hold them to reasonable standards of behavior, and recognize that not all teens are such.

Anyway. One of the more interesting bits of the exchange for me was that my conversational partner revealed in her initial response to me that she herself is trans, and hence had no small amount of perspective on the matter. And hey, all of a sudden I was reading her comments in a different light. I still feel like her initial comment was unfair, but her subsequent clarifications calmed me down, and inspired me to re-evaluate.

It was a nice reminder about the importance of context in conversations on tricky, potentially threatening topics. I was probably more defensive than I needed to be about her initial statement, because I've heard too many comments from non-trans folks that, as I commented "managed to both belittle and invalidate the stresses of transition." I went in with hackles up. It's much easier to accept critique of my community from a fellow member of said community, and I wasn't so trepidatious about her perspective. In the end, I was glad I challenged her, because in her explanations, she made several very insightful points that I was glad to have the opportunity to ponder. On the other hand, I still thought her initial comment was unfair, so it just goes to show that everyone can make insensitive statements sometimes, particularly in "in-group" spaces where they have reason to believe that they'll be taken with a grain of salt.
--
So transphobia (or spontaneous mildly transphobic statements, anyway) can come from unexpected sources! Not just trans folks, but trans allies. In a much more clear-cut instance, I was in a conversation with someone the other day- someone who has dated at least one trans person (to my knowledge), who is not herself trans, but who pushes for gender identity to be included in educational settings about diversity and nondiscrimination, in short, a trans ally- who unexpectedly brought up the subject of an unexpected crush she'd had last year.

"I think he was a bio-boy!" she chirruped almost bashfully.

The flow of conversation moved reasonably quickly, and I didn't say anything at the time, but arrrgh, how that phrase grates on me. As I'm sure I've mentioned her innumerable times, I despise the false dichotomy that it sets up between trans and non-trans men, or, more specifically transsexual and cissexual men. There are so many loaded and moral connotations with the prefix 'bio-' that I cannot tolerate it used in opposition to 'trans-'. Bio sets itself against synthetic, and I am not a fake man.

Yet there are plenty who would disagree, who would tell me to get off my defensive high horse and let go of my conceptions of the word 'fake.' I suspect these are the same folks who gleefully or casually refer to themselves and others as trannies. At any rate, I think the argument goes that transsexual men are NOT the same as cissexual men, so why get so bent out of shape about terminology?

Well, all terminology is not created equal, my friends, and to ignore the power differentials in the words used to describe us is to relinquish a powerful weapon in a fight to end oppression.

Relatedly, I've heard folks say proudly that they are NOT real men, not because they are trans, but because there is no such thing as a "real" man. That's an admirable sentiment, but one that isn't shared by the populace at large, and may not be for an exceedingly long time, if ever. In the mean time, I think groundwork is an important part of the Revolution, and until the notion of "real men" is finally stamped out, I'm certainly not going to let myself be defined outside that circle.

World's Youngest Transsexual?

I've seen this story on a couple of blogs this morning, about a young woman in Germany who is apparently a rising pop star and transsexual.

My first thought was to be please at the (for once!) reasonably respectful and positive writing; I found both the article and the blog mention pretty good in terms of pronouns, quotes from her doctors and family, etc. What struck me, though, besides the cringe-inducing sensationalism of using her given name in the headline, was the tagline of "World's Youngest Transsexual!"

I think it's great that she was able to get her family to support her, and that she was able to access good healthcare and pursue the treatment she needed without the 'blunt trauma' of puberty, as the article puts it, that I imagine many of us went through. Though the question of how young is too young to transition certainly comes up, it, while both contentious and interesting, is not my point.

The main thing I'm interested in is the fact that the article seems to be making a distinction that she's the youngest transsexual in the world because she's already had surgery. Does that mean that she wasn't a transsexual, per se, until the moment of obtaining surgery? To take it away from such a surgery-centric model, and bring it back to myself, I found myself wondering, have I always been a transsexual, even before I started pursuing transition? What about before I even realized I wanted/needed to transition?

I am now most comfortable calling myself a transsexual, or a man of transsexual experience, but that wasn't always the case. I (like many of my friends, it seems) identified as genderqueer/trans* for a number of years before realizing that I still hadn't gotten it quite right, that I am transsexual and definitely needed and wanted to pursue social and medical transition. I'm trying not to project any assumptions about what it does or doesn't mean to be transgender, and this is certainly not to say that I believe a genderqueer -> trans* -> transsexual trajectory is 'normal' or 'right' or what have you. Clearly, these can be separate identities or they can coexist. I certainly am still more genderqueer than many men I know, regardless of whether they are trans or not- I enjoy a bit of crossdressing, etc.

But I also sometimes think that transsexual is a more appropriate word for me than transgender, simply because I don't feel like my gender has changed much. I'm the same slightly effete masculine person I've been for ages.

All that said, I think I've come to feel that I've always 'been' a transsexual, I just didn't realize it for quite some time, and so spent years first misidentified (by myself and others) as female, and then misidentified (by myself) as genderqueer/butch, and now finally have realized that I'm a transsexual man. Still, the means that I (all transsexuals?) were once "the World's Youngest Transsexuals!" It occurs to me that it's pretty condescending and insulting for this newspaper to act like they've discovered a rare species, The Youthful Transsexual, simply because they've found someone who has had the good fortune to be able to access the medical care necessary to transition at an earlier age than most of us.

discomforting memories

Today I've been wearing a holter monitor, which is basically a portable EKG device that I've got to carry around like a fannypack with wires leading to electrodes that are stuck to my chest. It's not terribly inconvenient, and it's mostly a precautionary measure (I had some heart issues as a child, had a few palpitations in the fall, things are being ruled out), so it's not particularly scary or stressful, but it's been making me pretty uncomfortable all day and I think I've finally figured out why.

It reminds me strongly of having my chest surgery back in 2006, when I had the same feelings of caution, of having medical tape on my chest, and a limited range of motion and mobility, and having to be careful about how I lie down, and how I snuggle up to my partner. It's a funny reminder that having chest surgery was a simultaneously traumatic and euphoric experience for me. In the abstract, it was the pinnacle of happy times. I don't know that there's been anything else in my life that I've focused on so intently as I did in the months leading up to that surgery. It certainly has been the most expensive thing I've ever done, second only to my college tuition. It was something I desperately wanted, hoped for, counted down to...and then something that (I now realize) I basically hated while I was going through it.

I was physically uncomfortable, scared of what my results were going to be, mourning the loss of my nipple sensation, feeling guilty about being such a burden (financial and otherwise) on my family, and feeling vulnerable in just about every sense. It basically sucked! I was happy and delighted on an abstract level, and then miserable and resentful on an immediate level. I resented that I had to have surgery at all, that putting myself through such an ordeal was (as my doctor would later write in a testimonial letter) "necessary for me to lead a normal life."

And of course, a month after the surgery, when my wounds were well on their way to healing and I could move around again and see my newly flat chest, the resentment faded and paled before the significance of my triumph. But wearing these electrodes taped to my chest all day reminds me of what a slog it was during those weeks. And if I recall from my many painful interactions with medical tape while keeping my nipples properly moistened and bandaged post-surgery, sticky tape and my chest do not get along! I'm a little concerned about how many chest hairs I'm going to lose to these bits of tape tomorrow morning...

all I post these days are pictures

Someday, words will flow again. Perhaps while I'm home for the holidays. In the meantime, I leave you with a few pictures that I snapped upon divesting myself of my snow gear this afternoon. Roughly two and a quarter years post-surgery, two and a half on T.





I have been told my chest hair resembles an eagle.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Pretty much last but certainly not least on my list of things I'm thankful for: muttonchops!

rememberance

I'm glad to see that Duanna Johnson is getting some national coverage in the NY Times, and to see that the Tennessee Transgender Political Coalition received an outpouring of donations to help cover the cost of her funeral expenses. I hope that justice is served, and that some scrap of silver lining can be made of this too-common tragedy. If there is further accountability within the police department, if her estate can continue to press the lawsuit against the MPD, if people around the country hear her story and understand a little bit that transgender men and women...well. I don't know what to say that doesn't sadden me that I have to say it. We're here. We're real. We live our lives, we deserve respect, and we sure as hell don't deserve to be insulted or beaten or murdered for being different.

This Thursday, the 20th, is the international Transgender Day of Rememberance. I hope everyone who is reading this will take a minute, of silence perhaps, to remember and honor the dead.

Transwoman murdered, no protests planned.

Thanks to Jack for saying, as usual, exactly the right thing about such a tragic situation. It is very bad that Californians decided to deny gay people the basic right of marriage. It is much worse that trans folks (especially trans women, especially women of color) are continuously disrespected, denied basic rights (including marriage, whether heterosexual or homosexual!), not to mention assaulted and murdered. And yet, thousands of people aren't marching in the streets to protest transphobia.

It's hard not to be bitter. I don't want to set up a false dichotomy- marriage equality is a worthy cause, one that I am in favor of. Clearly, everyone should be able to marry whomever they choose, and it's great to see an outpouring of positive support for the cause. I'd prefer activism around this issue to a completely apathetic gay community.

But I'm saddened and frustrated that same-sex marriage is the biggest issue associated with the LGBT community. It's what politicians get asked about, and their carefully minced words get used to declare them pro-gay or anti-gay. Certainly gay issues and trans issues don't always overlap, but there are plenty of trans folks supporting marriage equality and agitating and protesting against Prop 8, and generally being the T holding up the end of the rainbow acronym. It sure would be nice to see some reciprocity, and to see some acknowledgement that there are other more serious issues facing this community than whether or not the government will recognize your relationship and give you a tax break.

Jack has posted a link asking folks to donate in equal measure to however they donated to the fight against Prop 8. I didn't donate to the No On 8 campaign, but I just donated here.

My rightous anger/grief is getting all mixed up with my personal grief from my cousin's death earlier this fall. It was the first time I'd ever been in a funeral home, the first family member I'd lost when I was old enough and privy to the jagged logistics of a death- the decisions to be made, the money that needed to change hands. It was a hard, dreadful week, and never til just now did I consider that it could've been much harder.

not covered

I never got around to blogging about this back at the time, but when I was first hired for my new job, I had to fill out a whole bunch of forms for HR, some of which pertained to the health care plan that I would be covered by. There were two options, a PPO and an HMO, with thick booklets explaining the difference between the two.

I didn't know much about the difference between the two, save that I've only ever heard HMOs referred to with scorn, and I remember one Dykes to Watch Out For comic featured a character wearing a tshirt that read HMOphobic. It turns out that it basically has to do with how much freedom you want to be able to choose your own doctors and specialists vs relying solely on the people that are chosen for you. The HMO is also the cheaper option, in terms of monthly deductions from one's paycheck.

What struck me the most, as I settled down to compare the two and make my choice, was how similar (and surprising) they both were on the topic of transsexuals. Both booklets contained an extensive (though not exhaustive, as they took pains to disclaim!) list of items not covered by the plan, ranging from refractive eye surgery to infertility treatment to foot orthotics. But waaay at the top of this list (both lists!), clocking in at number three, the third most important thing that these insurance companies want to make clear they will not pay for was, and I quote, "Transsexual surgery, including related drugs or procedures." (One said transsexual, the other "gender reassignment")

Wow. Really? Number three? I wasn't surprised to find that my specific health care needs wouldn't be covered, but I was rather surprised to see it so explicitly stated, and so early in the list. I was rather under the (apparently misguided or outdated) impression that trans health issues were, while not being supported by the health insurance companies or even most medical practitioners, mostly flying under the radar. When I had to fight my Union to grant me short-term disability leave after my chest surgery, they tried to deny it because it "wasn't medically necessary" and was "cosmetic" but they didn't have any explicit No Transsexuals rule. It was more de facto discrimination than blatant.

It was surprising to see my health care needs so clearly invalidated like that. I wonder when that line was added to the list, and what the reasoning was to make it the third item. Is it because trans surgeries are so expensive? (though I dare speculate that part of the reason they're so expensive is that so few surgeons perform them, in part because of a lack of support/funding from the medical establishment, from research of new techniques to insurance payments.) Is it because trans health care makes up a large percentage of insurance claims? (unlikely, it seems, given how few of us there are.)

There is so much to be said about trans heath care and how and why we don't get insurance coverage and how and why we ought to. I hope to have more of an opportunity to organize around this issue in the future- it's more important to me than, say, same-sex marriage. Not that I don't think everyone should be able to get married because, hey, I do! It's just when I read about the huge protests thare going on now against Prop 8 that just passed in California, I can't help but be astonished that this is such a big deal. Seriously, can we get some of that energy directed towards the myriad other issues in this country?

also

Another relevant/funny dinosaur comic!

good election news!

A trans person was elected Mayor of Silverton, OR! I've found a few news items through Google News, (and deliberately haven't clicked on any of the Fox News clips- don't really care to spoil my morning with whatever they have to say!) and they mostly appear to be doing a good job of coverage. Stu appears to fall under the much broader gender-variant umbrella definition of transgender, and is not transsexual, despite the cringe-worthy headline "Sex change we can believe in!" headline I saw from one newspaper. It's great to see a gender variant person holding public office (Stu has been a City Council member for a while, apparently) and living their life effectively without fear of recrimination. Way to go, Stu! Way to be a role model!

p.s
oh yeah, and the most important presidential of my (most people's) lifetimes was decisively won by the man by far best qualified to do the job, thus salvaging the last vestiges of my faith in my fellow americans to do the right thing. thrilling moment, particularly when our man Obama gave a shout out to the gays in his acceptance speech. also, i'm delighted to see that the three heinous anti-choice measures in colorado, south dakota and california were shot down, just as I am saddened to see that the various anti-gay marriage (california, florida, arizona) and anti-gay adoption (arkansas) bills passed.