Off the record

Last night, I talked “off the record” with a reporter from the Washington Post, on the phone.  Completely surreal and surprisingly fulfilling.  It’s ironic that just a few days ago, I wrote about a difficulty in sharing who I am with others, and then suddenly I’m talking to a big time newspaper about core beliefs and feelings, how I got to where I am, how I navigate daily life, etc.

I was at work while we talked.  The phone call was scheduled ahead of time, so I just cleaned a little faster than normal so I’d have more time toward the end of my night.  I kicked back at a teacher’s desk (shhhh, don’t tell) and waited for the call.  I even wrote myself a pep talk on an index card so I wouldn’t psych myself out too much.  It’s still in my pocket.  It says, “Anything you have to say – big or small – is worthwhile and interesting.  Talking to people is a huge part of her job.  Let her do the work and steer things, but also give yourself space to say everything you want to say.”  We ended up talking for about 35 minutes, which was starting to feel a little long.  I think I was being pretty verbose (maybe even actually eloquent at times), contrary to my fears of not being able to answer clearly or not elaborating enough.

The reporter is currently talking to a lot of people who identify as non-binary.  Who live in between, and how they negotiate that.  She’ll be narrowing it down to one person, or a couple of people, to then go and spend time with face-to-face, get a real sense of how they go about their days.  If you would like to talk to her too, you can!  Let me know, and I’ll send you her email address so you can share a little about yourself first.  Or, you can read more details here.

I got a good vibe from her, but I definitely have some strong reservations going on at the same time.  She’s open to, and flexible with, issues of anonymity, so that’s certainly a good sign.  On the other hand, I worry that even if we were to connect well and I felt understood, that wouldn’t mean the article would reflect what I think it should be saying.  I’d have no control over the final product whatsoever.  But, I feel like I’m at a point in my life where I could handle that.  Even if I were to not feel too good about it, I could move on from there and still feel like it’s worthwhile to put myself out there and be a voice for this community.  I’m getting waaaaaaay ahead of myself here though.  I might not be the person they’re looking for, in the first place.

I’m just pretty proud of where I find myself these days.  A year ago, for example, I wouldn’t have even comprehended doing something like this.  Now I feel like it’s doable, and not nearly as nerve-racking as I’d imagined.

Thanks to Micah for telling me about this opportunity!  You keep opening up doors to new possibilities!


While I was “out,” part 3 – coming back

This is the last part (for now) on the topic of being “out.”  It was starting to get really long, which is why I broke it up into segments.

Part 1 is about how language has changed over just a short time.
Part 2 is about feeling disconnected from the LGBT community.

This is more about how I’m finding my way back.  How was I involved in the LGBT community before it started feeling overwhelming?  Mostly, I was connecting on personal levels with people, whether that was through a group (for example, I was in a gender identity group therapy dynamic from 2004-2006), at conferences (I went to a handful between 2004 and 2006), or just hanging out one-on-one and talking about difficult stuff.  I did an AIDS walk, I volunteered for the local LGBT film festival, things like that.

In my late-teens / early-twenties, I would say I was only partly out of the closet, while being very involved in the community, because I was not specifically hiding anything, but I wasn’t vocal in the least, either.  It’s easy to not really talk about who you are when you rarely talk at all to begin with.  And this, specifically, is what I’ve been working on, because my ultimate goal is to feel comfortable as a social person.  I don’t talk much at all, on a daily basis.  I have a handful of people who I talk to a lot, (just ask my partner!) and beyond that, I don’t talk to people – not about the weather, not about myself, not about local news, etc.  I am slowly, slowly, trying to change this.

So when I say I want to come out, what I mean is that I want to be comfortable talking to any and everyone, to varying degrees, about my life, about what I’m doing, and about my take on who I am.  I’m a pro at hearing all about this stuff from everyone else, but I have a ways to go.  I want to stop filtering.  I want to be able to just casually say, “My partner and I did _____ this weekend.”  And actually use her name and her pronouns.  In more advanced situations, I want to include more about my gender identity.  I started to come out to some family members recently, but there’s a whole lot more to do.

All along, there’s been one way I’ve always been “out,” and that’s been through my appearance.  I never compromise on that; not while growing up (and I was fortunate to have parents who didn’t meddle too much), and certainly not now.  I appear how I want to appear.  I wear what I want to wear.  And people can come to assumptions easily based on that.  The assumptions are probably pretty far off from how I actually identify, but I can live with that.  It’s much better than feeling uncomfortable with how I look.  In retrospect, I think that the fact I’ve been so uncomfortable in my body is the reason why I’ve always given myself a lot of leeway on the things I can control:  clothing, shoes, accessories, hairstyles.  Essentially:  gender presentation.  I have rarely cared what others think, in terms of the way I look.  And I’ve been fortunate to have never gotten too much flak about it (or, perhaps, I’ve been oblivious…)

Why do I want to come back to the LGBT (specifically the T) community?  Some of the reasons are selfish.  I started testosterone, and the community now feels more relevant to my life again.  But another way to phrase that exact same notion would be, “I’ve finally found where I belong, in a positive way, and it’s within the trans* community.  Now that I’ve gotten through the bulk of the personal struggles, I want to give back.”  I’m not sure how, exactly, yet, but some pretty safe bets would be:

– through writing
– through connecting personally with others
– through local community involvement
-And specifically, one day, I’d like to present at conferences and/or be a gender identity youth coordinator.  We’ll see…


While I was “out,” Part 2 – partly out of the closet, fully out of the loop

For roughly 6 years, I was living sort of as the person I envisioned myself to be.  Prior to that, I’d gone through a bunch of intense periods of introspection (or maybe one really long period of continuous introspection is more like it), trying to find myself and how I identify.

By my mid-twenties, I had just kind of given up and said, “Good enough.”  Tried to move on and live my life as best I could.  (That doesn’t mean I stopped being introspective.  It just means I tried to have a life despite that.)  That life involved disconnecting from most things that were causing me too much stress and anxiety.  The LGBT community was definitely on that list, but at the time, I would have shrugged it off and told you, “it’s not that important to me.”

The LGBT community kept sending me this, and I just kept ignoring them.

The LGBT community kept sending me this, and I just kept ignoring them, because the details were always left blank.

The break-up was never about interpersonal drama or ideological disagreements.  (Although, I did feel some of that.  I strongly feel that a facilitator / leader can really make or break a group.)  I broke away because it felt too sensitive to be in touch with what was going on, and to connect with others on this identity-based level

I didn’t stop being an activist / contributor, but I did stop focusing on things that hit too close to home.  I immersed myself in endeavors such as Food Not Bombs, our local Free School, and benefits to raise money for a particular community space, Indymedia, etc.  I overextended myself way past the point of burn-out.  I’ve taken huge steps back.  I’m currently at a precipice, figuring out what to throw my energies into next, and how to do it differently.

I was not very happy, but I had resigned myself to thinking that this is just how things are for me.  I was so uncomfortable in my own skin.  My anxiety levels were so high, on a normal day, on every normal day.  I self-injured and shut-down (dissociated) regularly, just to cope with daily life.  I forced myself to do so many things, all the time, out of fear of sinking into yet another depression.  I was hyper-vigilant of my internal states and tried to regulate all my emotions – squish and squelch them, twist them into something else and rationalize them away.  I was aware that I was capable of having a sex drive, but it was so far gone I didn’t have the slightest idea of how to coax it back.  (And I really wanted it back.)

It’s not like my life was super stressful!  I work as a janitor.  I don’t have any dependents.  I don’t have money concerns, health concerns, family drama, nothing!  Haha.

I just did not want to worry any more about gender!  I had a huge amount of body dysphoria.  I felt totally lost a lot of the time.  But it wasn’t going to be about gender.  It was going to be about any number of other things.  Because, bottom-line, trying to figure out if I should transition or not was stressing the hell out of me, for years and years and years.  I did go through a (fortunately unsuccessful) time period where I said, OK, this is about gender.  And I found a therapist to talk about that, specifically.  (I was probably 28 at this point.)  I thought I was headed on a neat and tidy (and difficult) path to finally sort this all out and probably start testosterone and transition into a visible man.  Except, I never wanted to be a man.  It’s just that I had backed myself into a corner, and this was my escape plan.  But there was no way that could have worked; I knew myself too well.  I never ended up connecting with the therapist, I never even convinced myself to begin with, and the whole plan just stalled out.

(This kinda ends abruptly, but part 3 will be coming soon.  If you’re interested, here is part 1.)

 


While I was “out,” Pt. 1 – trans* related linguistics

I’ve been out of the office (and by office, I mean table in the dining room) quite a bit lately because I’ve been working a series of 12 hour shifts at my real job – filling in for my supervisor plus doing my own work.  But that’s not really what I’m writing about right now…

For a few years, I was very much disconnected from the trans* community, and I’ve been recently back in some big ways (online at least… for now).  Where was I from roughly 2007-2013?  Why was I not involved?  How was I involved before that time period?  Why did I decide to come back?  These questions are basically teasers for right now.  I’ll be elaborating on all of that in the near future, but in this moment, I want to focus on some things that have changed in that short time period, linguistically speaking.

When I started to dip my toes back in the water, I started at LiveJournal, a space I’m familiar with and had been an active contributor in the past.  I joined a group that’s all about non-binary identities but was quickly confused by a bunch of phrases and acronyms I’d never encountered before.  I had no idea what AFAB/AMAB, FAAB/MAAB, DFAB/DMAB, CAFAB/CAMAB* stood for, or why there was an asterisk now attached to the word “trans*.”  The most commonly used gender-neutral pronouns, last I was aware, were “ze/hir/hirs.”  In fact, I hadn’t even heard of any others, not even “they/them/their.”  !!!  I’d never come across the honorific, “Mx.”  I had not heard of the terms “neutrios,” “agender,” or “bigender,” although these were easy enough to figure out.  In fact, in the past, I had identified (and I still identify) as genderqueer, but at the time, I strongly wished there was a better word  (and maybe it was there, all along – I just wasn’t aware of it).  I would have definitely identified as “agender” or “neutrois” if I’d been familiar with those words then.  Now, not quite so much.

(I’m getting bogged down by trying to link everything!  Here is an additional good resource, and I’ll just leave it at that.  Nonbinary.org  The internet is, you know, pretty search friendly anyway.  You can do the work yourself, haha.)

Coincidentally, I came across a book at the library last week, called Uncharted:  Big Data as a Lens on Human Culture.  I’m only 36 pages in, but it’s already one of the most interesting books I’ve EVER read.  Highly recommend!  (If you’re into quantifying things and looking at social trends.)  Basically, the authors teamed up with Google and created this website.  Google has been digitizing over 30 million books over the past 10 years, and they’re just getting started.  What that provides (among many things), is a database for how frequently words and phrases are used within languages and over great spans of time.  And these guys came up with a search engine lens to chart this stuff.  I decided to see what a graph would look like between 1980 and now (it cut me off at 2008, unfortunately) for the phrases “female-bodied” vs. “FAAB” vs. “AFAB.”  It looks like this:

 

graph

(You can click on it for a clearer image)

What does this all mean?  Well, it means we can look at how words and phrases shift over time.  (We can also see how infrequently these words/phrases are used, but that’s beside the point, a little bit…)  It’s incredibly exciting to me that I could have been out of the loop for roughly 6 years – a very short time, relatively speaking – and when I came back to these dialogues, there was a bunch of new terms I’d never heard of!  The trans* umbrella is an amazingly rich and dynamic area of changing identities, linguistics, politics, health initiatives, etc.  It feels like there are endless things for me to write about and stay up to date with!  Let’s continue discovering…

________________________________________________

*What do all these acronyms stand for?!!  Well!  here is the long string:  Assigned female at birth / Assigned male at birth, Female assigned at birth / Male assigned at birth, Designated female at birth / Designated male at birth, Coercively assigned female at birth / Coercively assigned male at birth.  These terms are gaining traction over “Female-bodied, Male-bodied,” which was previously the dominant way to describe someone’s birth sex, I believe…


A video about taking a low dose of testosterone (w/o masculinizing changes)

Last week, I made a video using my computer for the first time.  If you’ll bear with me for the first 25 seconds, I do eventually start talking.  It gets off to a slow start, as I am momentarily mesmerized by my own interior decorating.  🙂

I posted this video on YouTube on a new collaborative channel called Undefine Me.  The channel has a handful of people who identify in a lot of different ways, talking on a weekly basis about sexuality, gender, and similar topics.  I don’t think I’ll be contributing much by way of video, but I’ve started writing on their blog.  You can too, if you feel so inclined!

The reason I decided to make a video is because I feel like I have something to say.  And I’ve been writing an awful lot about it here on my blog.  (So if you read this blog, all the info in the video will be redundant!)  But I think there are a lot of people who might be more inclined to watch a video than to read a blog post.  (I am not one of those people!)  So, this video is for them, and I’m putting it out there in the hopes they’ll somehow find it.

 


The last time I saw my doctor / I like your product

I went to my doctor’s office one last time a few weeks ago, to get another prescription for testosterone.  During this past year of seeing him multiple times (in the beginning, it was so many times), our values and expectations were not at all lining up.  My goals and values include communication, follow-through, trust, and respect.  As far as I could gather, his values involved maximizing appointment frequency ($$$$$), minimizing face-time, being the expert, and using aggression to barrel through mistakes.

Because of all these clashes, I got myself a new doctor for a couple of months from now.  Plus, I have a plan B if that doesn’t pan out.  I feel a huge amount of relief to never have to see my previous doctor again!  Here is an anecdote from that last visit:

I called on a Friday to ask if I could come in and pick up a prescription the following week.  (Because testosterone is a controlled substance, I can never get refills or prescriptions faxed to pharmacies, apparently?  So even though I only need to see the doctor / get blood work every 6 months, I have to go every 3 months just to get a new script.)  The receptionist asked when I’d want to make the appointment, and I had to repeatedly be clear this is not an appt.  I am not due for an appointment at this time.  I told her I’d like to come in Thursday to just pick up a prescription.  I asked, “Should I call ahead that morning to make sure?”  “Yes, that would be good.”

I called Thursday morning to ask if the script was ready.  She replied that oh, no it’s still in his messages box.  She told me he’d do it once I arrived at the office.  I said OK.  Once I got there, I waited a while to speak with the receptionist.  She and a patient were in the middle of an argument about outstanding bills.

The woman asked how had she been able to see the doctor without paying?  There has never been a time he has seen her unless she pays first.  This is why she’s not able to see him right now – she hasn’t paid first.  So how could she have a debt if he won’t ever see her before she pays?  She asked the receptionist to ask him, since she can’t go ask because he won’t talk to her unless she’s paid, at any point in time.  She can never talk to him.  There was a question about the dates of these alleged appointments, and the receptionist just kept replying that she does not know anything because she’s not the billing department.  This circular back-and-forth was making me feel dizzy (I was rooting for her in this standoff, anyway).  There were other nonsensical details, but I can’t recall everything.  I was focused on myself and getting out as quickly as possible.

The woman stepped aside to call the billing department, so I approached the receptionist just to be like, “Hey, remember me?  I’m here now.”  Haha.  I sat back down and waited for a while.  The doctor brushed past the entrance to the waiting room and mumbled my name (maybe?) and for me to step into room 4.  My heart started racing.  I knew I was about to be bullied into an appointment, and I was prepping to fight back.

I stood up and tentatively walked toward the corridor (because I wasn’t even sure he had been addressing me!)  He came back through and directed me to a room.  I said, “OK, just to be clear, this is not an appointment.  I am just here for the prescription.”  “I know, but we have to get you a new blood work form, so it is [an appointment.]”  He essentially yelled this as he rushed down the hall to his office.  I stood in the room to wait for him, but did not sit down or take off my coat.  Once he came in, I asserted, “I had my blood work done in December.  So it is not due, and I do not need an appointment at this time.”
He replied, “Oh, it was December?  I thought it was June.  OK then, you’re right.  Well, take this form anyway since I already filled it out.  What prescription do you need?”
“Androgel.”
“The Androgel rep is here right now.  Go ahead and go back to the waiting room and tell him how much you like it.”
“OK.”  ???

I went back out to wait for him to get me my prescription.  A young man in a suit and black wool pea coat, with a briefcase, sat kiddie-corner to me.  I thought to myself, Oh, what the hell?  I like his product 100X more than I’ve liked anything else I’ve ever been prescribed.  I guess I’ll tell him…
“Hey, I like your product,” I said, nodding my chin his way.
“Oh, you like it?  Great.  It’s a good product.”
I sat there feeling smug and tough, for some reason.  I guess because everything was feeling increasingly surreal, and instead of shutting-down to it, I participated in the absurdity.

The doctor finally came out and gave me my prescription.  He said, “Did you tell him how much you like it?”
“I did.”

And then I finally got to walk out the door.


One year on testosterone without physical changes

My non-binary self has made it one whole year on testosterone(!!!), and it feels like there’ll be no end in sight (I wasn’t planning on there being an end).  I still feel highly motivated to apply the topical gel (Androgel) daily.  The benefits have been more than I could have even imagined.

If you’re a numbers person, this paragraph is for you (if you’re not, just go ahead and skip it):  There are probably a lot of estimations about what is considered a “normal” range for testosterone.  There are plenty of articles and websites to find info on levels, and what “free testosterone” is, etc.  Also, I’m not a scientist.  I’m a janitor.  So I’m just going based on what my blood-work form says:  Females have a general T range of 14-76 ng/dl  Males have a general T range of 300-800 ng/dl.  I started at 59.  I’m now at 102.3.

This makes quite a bit of sense in that I am now in neither a female nor a male range.  Which is how I’ve felt myself to be for a very long time, and it’s now being reflected within this potent hormone/steroid level.  It’s not high enough to be exhibiting secondary male sex characteristics.  But it’s high enough for me to feel much more comfortable in my skin, being someone who is non-binary in this specific way.

For reference, here’s where I’ve written a lot more info about what has changed:
5 months on T
8 months on T
11 months on T

Instead of repeating a lot of that info, I thought I’d go back to what I wrote a year ago.  I did not yet have this blog (I started it last July); I was writing in a paper journal about what it felt like to start testosterone.  Here are a few choice excerpts:

3/18/13 – My initial start level was 59.  I’m hoping for about 100 or so [good guess!] – enough to feel different, but not enough to induce physical changes…  Applied it to my shoulders.  It was a lot more, volume-wise than I was expecting.  Didn’t notice any changes, but had a dream that night that two men (strangers) were out on the street, checking out each others’ erections and making sure things were working properly.

3/19/13 – Felt just kind of increasingly calm, which can be attributed to any number of things…  Toward the end of my work day, I was reclining on an inclined weight bench (I clean the weight room) listening to my mp3 player, and when I sat up, my visual field was new and improved.  Everything looked sharper, brighter, more organized.  I scanned the room and structured it by color for the first time.  Made me wonder if I’ll be able to “see” differently.

3/22/13 – Switched to applying it to inner thighs.  Makes more sense in terms of touching and potential transfer.  I’ve been feeling really warm and fuzzy lately, which is the best part of this whole thing.  Still feel calm, and simultaneously energized, like relaxergized!!!

3/29/13 – I need to convey more how awesome everything is.  Anxiety is gone completely.  I have never felt this way in my life.  I’ve never been on Extacy, but I’m gonna take a guess I’m feeling similar to that.  Last night, I rolled around on the living room floor like a dog.  I’m just kinda reveling in my own skin over here – I feel so safe in my body.

The intensity of these feelings has, of course, diminished over time (although wouldn’t it be cool if I could feel this high for the rest of my life?  Even that would get boring though haha.)  But the difference between where I was and where I am, in terms of how I feel, is so great that there’s no question for me about whether I should continue.

My voice hasn’t dropped.  I don’t have to shave my face.  I don’t look any more masculine, in my opinion.  However, I do think my face shape is morphing ever so slightly.  It’s hard to know what might be due to aging and what might be due to testosterone.  But here are some pics to illustrate:

two years ago

two years ago

one year ago, right before starting T

one year ago, right before starting T

last week

last week

 

yesterday

yesterday


Snow day (weather comparison)

Yesterday, I just so happened to take a couple of photos in my backyard.  (OK, it’s because my one year on testosterone is coming up in a few days, and I realized I don’t have any recent pictures of myself.)  But how cool is this?  I’ll be doing some picture comparisons of my face soon, but check out these weather comparison shots!

Yesterday was 45 degrees and sunny

Yesterday was 45 degrees and sunny

Today:  I don't know how cold!

Today: I don’t know how cold!

Yesterday, I was sort of sitting in this rusty chair.

Yesterday, I was sort of sitting in this rusty chair.

Today, no way I am going to sit down on that!

Today, no way I am going to sit down on that!

After the storm.

After the storm.

 

Is anyone else getting hit this hard?  I got a paid day off work!  A friend helped me fancify my blog a little bit with a new header.  Then we had a pizza party.  Snow days are one of the best things, for kids and janitors alike!


Drag King Stories (pt 1)

If you’d have known me in college, you’d know 1) I was fond of saying, “One day I will be a drag king” and 2) I appeared to be one of the least likely candidates ever, for such an endeavor.  I was beyond shy.  I had very few friends, so it’s not likely you would have know me in college anyway!  I avoided people at a lot of costs – never attended parties, found the back entrances and emergency staircases to buildings so as not to walk with the masses, went to dining halls at off times, etc.

But I was mesmerized by the idea.  I wanted to personify different artists.  I wanted to be seen by others in this specific context, which largely meant being seen as male.  Then again, I never danced.  I never went to bars, night clubs, drag shows.  It was all just a hypothetical idea.

One day, I did become a drag king.

One day, I did become a drag king.

Billy Idol is very macho, no?

Billy Idol is very macho, no?

Fast forward a year after graduation.  I was living at home with my parents, just starting out in my career as a janitor.  I had gone to a drag show once with some friends.  I was starting to make friends.  The way the drag kings presented themselves was enviable, but also to me, a little uncomfortable.  They were so overtly macho and sexual.  Wasn’t so sure about that.  They were fun to watch, but could I actually do that?  Still, I never ever danced, let alone grind up on strangers and gyrate on poles.

I knew of one drag king, a friend of a friend, named Maurice (K).  But we had never met.  She worked at a local historic theatre, so when I found myself there, with my mom, I decided to ask, does K still work here?  The person replied, “I’m K!”  I told her that we have a mutual friend, and it’s really cool to meet you and stuff.  She said we should hang out; she told me when her next show was.

I went to that dingy dive-of-a-gay-bar; it was my first time there, and I’m sure I arrived early.  The floor was black, the bar was black, the walls were black, the tiny stage was black.  The only thing that seemed only slightly fabulous was the shimmery silver drapes that lined the wall behind the stage.  A mix of techno and hip-hop hits blared way too loudly.  A few people milled about in groups.  I was there with a friend; we didn’t drink.  We stood around awkwardly.

I don’t recall much about the lineup that night, but I can still picture this mysterious potential friend’s performance vividly.  Maurice had on a pink blazer and a visor.  Everything about him was colorful – his swagger, his movements, his outfit.  I’d never heard the song before, but I was instantly in love with it.  (I asked him later; it was Japan – The Unconventional.  I tracked it down on record soon after, and listened to that whole album over and over and over.)

He was certainly not exuding a macho persona, and he’d tell you he’s not going for sexual overtones (although I’d argue they’re there, unconventionally).  I mean, of course!  There are so many styles of music from which to draw from.  Not just hip-hop, country, and pop punk, which was all I ever saw from anyone else.  Maybe I could do this thing, if I just stuck to what I liked, which tended toward effeminate anyway.  Glam rock, new wave, post-punk, there were all sorts of things to explore.  And somehow, my path let me to find this person who was already doing this thing, his way, and wanted to connect with me about it.

After the show, he asked me, “So have you thought of being a drag king?  You wanna be one?”  And the rest is history.  (By which I mean, there’s more to come.)

David Sylvian, of Japan, looks so very effeminate, in this video, and always.  Maurice was, essentially, a woman impersonating a man who looks an awful lot like a woman.  It was fantastic.


Rumors flying around the kindergarten classroom

A couple of days ago at work, I was passing by 2 kindergarteners who were putting on their boots, getting ready to go home for the day.  One whispered to the other, “Is she a boy?  She looks like a boy.”  I thought it was super cute – it’s cute how kids think that if they whisper, there’s no way you can hear them.  It’s cute how kids’ gender categories are only “girl” and “boy,” no matter how old the person they’re talking about is.  It’s cute how kids are so curious.

Then tonight, a book fair was going on.  A mom and her daughter arrived a little early and the mom asked me where it was being held.  We were about half- the-hallway’s-length away from each other; I gave her directions to the cafeteria.  She said thanks and I started to turn the corner when I heard her say, “Oh, I was just wondering?”  I turned to face her again and she continued.
“What’s your name?”
I told her my name, which is a slightly androgynized version of my very feminine name.
She said, “Oh ok, sorry, I thought you were someone else.  My apologies.  For my daughter.”
“Sure, no problem.”  She then told me her name (I forget now) and, “Nice to meet you.”

I walked away from that having no idea what motivated those questions or who she might have thought I was.  No one ever mistakes me from someone else.  I don’t mean to be boastful, but I’ve been told that I have a very distinct face so many times that it’s become a source of internal pride.

As I thought it through, all I could imagine was that this was a kindergartener here with her mom (she looked to be kindergarten age).  The kids had been increasingly wondering whether I am a boy or a girl, and this one kid even spread the word to her mom.  And her mom was helping clear it up for her.  I’d rather it not get cleared up!

This is why I’m seriously considering going by a masculine-sounding name.