Licensed to wed

Posted: October 27, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Last week, my partner and I went to city hall to fill out our marriage license.  We didn’t yet (and still don’t) have a definite plan for how we’re going to do this thing, other than we want to do it legally and simply by the end of this year.  And then we want to have a celebration with a big bunch of people and include a performance piece in lieu of a “ceremony,” this coming summer.

So the actual getting of the document was a little stressful – we were crunched for time and unsure about how these things go.  We gave ourselves time to get down there right when they opened at 9, and then I was going to drive her to work directly from there, by 10.  We were the second ones in line and everything went smoothly with filling out the form itself.  In the section where you mark either “M” or “F,” it said, “Sex (optional)” which was super fucking amazingly awesome and unexpected and we both purposefully left it blank.  My partner joked that it meant sex is optional in a marriage, and they want to make sure you know that going into it.

We brought up the form, and then a clerk basically typed up a new form, from what we had handwritten in.  She then asked us to check for errors.  We found two and she made the corrections before printing it out, having us sign it, and putting it in an envelope with some other information.  It was heart-racing exciting; we walked quickly out of there and talked about how we had time to spare to have some coffee at her place of employment before she started her shift.  I kinda did a victory leap down the steps and she laughed.

As we were walking back to the car, we talked about the fact that there had been errors.  Then she said, “I hope she didn’t fill in our sex markers.”  My stomach kind of dropped, because, honestly, I forgot to check that.  She pulled the document out of the envelope, and sure enough, there were two F’s typed into that section.  It felt devastating.  By this time, we were already in the car.  Our meter had run out, and we had no more change anywhere on our persons or anywhere in the car.  I started driving away, going back and forth in my mind about the logistics of getting this corrected vs. the importance.  In the end, importance won out.  My partner felt more flexible, but I needed mine to be blank.  So we parked elsewhere illegally, ran back inside, waited (because there was now a line), explained in an out-of-breath manner, crossed our fingers we wouldn’t be charged an additional fee (we overheard it was $10 for later corrections), got the changes made, and didn’t have to pay!

I did a double victory leap off the stairs, and upon seeing a man in a safety vest walking along the cars, sprinted toward ours so I could put the flashers on:  just standing, not parking illegally, sir!  Turned out he wasn’t a meter maid anyway, and I got my partner to work with zero minutes to spare.

Telling an old friend about new directions

Posted: October 21, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Recently, out of the blue, I got an email from my childhood best friend.  We’ve been in touch off-and-on throughout our adult life, but I haven’t heard from her in probably about 3 years at this point.  She wrote to me about searching for who she is and what she finds important in life.  I wrote back and similarly talked about recent journeys, finding myself, gender-wise and otherwise.  I wrote about starting testosterone 6 months ago and what that means to me.  I then wrote that if she has questions, I’d be glad to answer them.  (Because I assumed she’d be accepting, but not fully understanding / not knowing how I identify / not knowing much about trans* identities.  She just now responded back, and re: my request for questions, she said,

“I don’t really have any questions about it that you didn’t already answer: that you feel more normal than ever. You feeling comfortable in your own skin is something I have wanted for you ever since we hit puberty. That change is difficult for everyone, but it seemed to wreak havoc on you, as I’m sure it does on everyone who doesn’t fit in the tiny little boxes our society has labeled “girl” and “boy.” It was surreal to watch you struggle with your identity when, to me, you were always YOU. And I did a truly shitty job of being your friend and supporting you at that time.  I’m really sorry.  Now, I just feel so happy to hear that you’re ridding your life of the things that no longer serve you and that you’re finding solutions to elements of your life that never seemed to fit quite right before.”

When I read this, tears started streaming down my face; it’s one of the most touching things someone’s ever written to me.  Largely because she’s saying that she KNEW, and at the time, I had no idea anyone could see how much pain I was in, and I guess I didn’t even see the pain, or, I just did my best to normalize it.  And also because even though I’m not sure how versed she is in trans* identities and gender politics, that actually has no bearing on her knowing what I’m saying.  She knows, because she knows who I am, and that feels so personally connecting, and intensely empowering.

Thirty-one year old kid working as school janitor

Posted: October 21, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Janitorial work, Passing | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Last week I got my free flu shot, in the cafeteria of the high school I used to work at (I now just work at an elementary school).  I went around back, and luckily ran into a former co-worker who was dumping garbages.  It was cool to get to see him, and I was able to just go directly inside along with him, instead of going through the front, going to main office, checking in, getting visitor name tag, etc. etc.  I chatted with him for a minute, then followed others down to the cafeteria to get the shot.  A lady was there to organize us and hand out the forms we need to fill out.  She looked at me kinda sideways and said, “How old are you?”
“Me?  I’m thirty-one.”
“Oh, I thought you were a kid!”
“Oh, yeah, I get that sometimes.”
“OK good… well you’re lucky.”

I think she meant lucky that I look so young?  I do feel lucky – I like passing as a kid.   And I was even wearing my janitor uniform including ID badge on this occasion and everything, ’cause I was heading straight to work.  Don’t know of many high-schoolers who’d be sporting that outfit.

Coming out as “getting married”

Posted: October 13, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

ImageHey, my partner and I have been planning on getting married!  We finally reserved a venue, this here house, in one of the county parks.  It’s starting to feel like a real deal now, that we’re going to be doing this thing…  We’ve been “engaged”* for a while now, and at least from my end, I’d been sort of putting off planning / making things more concrete.  There’s probably a lot of reasons why that is, and I’ve been de-tangling all of that little by little.  I don’t think I’ll be going into all those thoughts here and now (hint: a lot of the thoughts surround the idea that for so long, we couldn’t legally get married anyway, and more recently we can yet so many others can’t, and that’s confusing to say the least), but one thought really stands out as it relates to my current low-dose testosterone adventure:  When I started testosterone last March, I really had no idea where I was going to end up!  I mean, I thought I would end up very close to where I’ve been at already, but I couldn’t know ’til I tried it.  And I still can’t know for sure, but I feel a little more secure than I did six months ago.

In other words, I feel like the possibility to legally transition is floating around nearby me, always.  But the first few months of being on testosterone (trying something radically new) was a pretty sure bet for a time period where I might start feeling differently than before.

In some more other words, if I were going to want to legally change my name and gender markers, the early months of being on T was a time period of higher likelihood for feelings like that to emerge, potentially.  (Not to mention maybe realizing I wanted to increase my dosage and transition in all ways – physically / legally / socially / etc.)  But I didn’t really, feel that way.  Which isn’t to say I won’t at any other point in time, of course!  It just seemed like a strange time to start planning a wedding, if I was more unsure than normal what name and gender might go on our marriage certificate and other legal documents we pursue together.

Some of that uncertainty started to dissipate over time.  I’m feeling really happy with where I’m at.  Which is maybe one or two steps away from where I’ve been at before, in terms of my gender identity.  I’m not planning on taking a hundred steps closer to being seen as “male.”  I mean, my partner sees me as male, as well as all the other shades of gender I want to be seen as, and that’s really what feels most important.  I’ve been starting to feel more ready to take some steps with her toward a different relationship identity.

I don’t think I ever directly articulated this to my partner!  Guess it’s time for some more conversations!  (One of the cool side effects of having a blog, or, you know, writing in general.)

*word is in quotations because it doesn’t feel like this “stage of our relationship” has much to do with what might traditionally be assumed, by being “engaged.”  Nor will our “wedding” or subsequent “marriage” resemble much of what the mainstream might assume, by the use of those words…  for example, there’s no engagement ring, no plans to combine or share finances, I could go on, but I don’t really want to!  Why can’t there just be more word choices?!!

Passing as a teenager yet again

Posted: October 2, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Passing | Tags: , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The other day, I was walking home from the library.  I had my red backpack on, full of new media.  My pants were probably partially saggy; I was wearing skate shoes, as usual.  As I mentioned last week, I’ve been in a pretty low mood, so I’m sure I was slouching quite a bit, probably staring at the ground as I went.  I was crossing the street to get to my side street before I realized some teenaged girls on a porch were yelling to me.

“Hey!  Yeah, you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah!  What’s your name?”
“[I said my name.]”
“JC?”
“No.  [Said my name again.]”
“JT?”
“Yeah.  [Still not my name, but realized it didn’t really matter.]”
“Nice to meet you!”

I kind of did a little wave and kept walking, worrying I was going to start running into them a lot since this was pretty close to my house.  This isn’t a direct account of an instance where I passed as male, but I’m pretttty sure teen girls wouldn’t have been so adamantly yelling if they saw me as, basically, a female-bodied person in their early thirties.  So I’m going to count it!