I keep thinking I’m bigger and more masculine than I actually am

I’m not complaining; it’s not a bad thing!  My surroundings sort of facilitate this, which is fine by me.  As a janitor at an elementary school, I spend most of my time, during the work-week, with women and children (if I’m with anyone at all).  Every teacher I interact with regularly is relatively feminine in her attire, mannerisms, and speech.  (There are a handful of men who teach / work at this school; I just don’t happen to see them on a regular basis.)  Every child running around me getting ready to head home for the day, is tiny.  I wear a work uniform which is super masculine by default.  (Like, we don’t have “women’s uniforms” and “men’s uniforms.”  We just have uniforms.)  In addition to the uniform, I wear men’s pants and men’s hiking boots.  I imagine my movements are relatively masculine.  I’m working, I’m using big, sweeping motions.  I saunter around slowly, sometimes with my hiking boots untied.

I am surrounded all day long by tiny furniture.  The classrooms I clean are for kindergarteners through 2nd graders.  (My co-worker cleans the bigger kids’ rooms.)  Some of these table tops are seriously 2 feet off the ground.  I have to essentially bend in half in order to spray and wipe them all down, daily.  (My poor back!)

Not an actual room I clean, but a good representation.

Not an actual room I clean, but a good representation.

I’m only 5’4″ (or maybe a little shorter than that.  I like to think I’m 5’4″ – I’m at least that with my hiking boots on!) but I feel like a giant!  Sometimes I sit down in the teeny tiny chair at the teeny tiny table and just catch my breath / think / relax.  It’s sorta like I’m in a fun house, where my self-perception is distorted because of my surroundings.

It's tough to get your knees to fit under the table.  Again, not actual school/teacher/kids, but good representation.

It’s tough to get your knees to fit under the table. Again, not actual school/teacher/kids, but a good representation.

I like this feeling a lot.  It helps me feel more like the way I see myself.  The only tough thing about it is when I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror (this happens at home too, it’s not just a work thing) and I realize how tiny and feminine I actually am!  I seem to especially hone in on my neck, for whatever reason – it’s so dainty and slender and like it could snap right in half so easily.  My wrists too; it feels like my hands could snap off at any time.  These feelings don’t really translate into me feeling like I should be taking more testosterone and becoming more masculine.  They’re just sorta… fleeting, at least for the time being.

Another thing that’s going on at work that’s somewhat related is:  age.  The kids stay the same; the parents stay the same.  (Not really of course.  Kids grow up.  I just mean I’m perpetually surrounded by kids and parents around the same ages, they cycle through, while I get older and older.)  I used to be the youngest person who worked at the school, for years.  Now, there’s a teacher who is younger than me. When did that happen?!  (It happened last year.)  Also, parents keep looking younger and younger.  Many of them are, in fact, younger than me now, which is a shift.  In fact, just yesterday, a parent recognized me from high school.  She was in a grade below me.  It was super weird!

It’s just not the same as it used to be:  kids and parents these days!


Fractured identity and fragmented feelings

For the most part, I’ve been pretty cool, collected, and patient about the rate of my (version of) transition.  It is purposefully progressing at a snail’s pace.  Example:  it took me 10 years of deliberating to decide to try out testosterone.  I have plans for other steps I want / need to take (legal name change, top surgery), but I can’t see any concrete ways those plans might be materializing in the near future (haven’t even socially changed name yet, what to tell work about top surgery?!).

Overall, this is OK.  I know that ultimately I control the speed of things.  It’s not that I need all these things ASAP (or, if I suddenly do, I could change my priorities and get moving!).  Fortunately, it’s not about waiting on things that are out of my control:  bureaucratic processes and medical gatekeepers and getting funds together.  It’s not really any of those things.  It’s all me, at least at this point.  I need to be taking things this slowly.

Sometimes though, I get really really frustrated and just wish I were where I see myself already.  At this rate, it’ll be another 10-20 years!  At times, I get so super indignant that my identity feels so fractured.  Why does it have to be this way?  It’s society’s fault I am where I’m at!  I want to be an actual person, in all areas of my life.  I try to remind myself that everyone is fractured, to varying degrees.  It’s not a transgender-specific thing.  Everyone has their out-in-public persona and their work persona and their laid-back hanging-out persona and the really good stuff that they only reveal to a select few, etc.  And at the same time, it’s much more than a transgender-specific thing.  I’m too private for my own good, about anything and everything!

I just wish, at times, that I could line up all my ducks and without going through the effort, everyone would magically know that this is my name and these are my pronouns and this is how I feel and I plan on these changes in the future.  I’m in limbo about my name.  The pronoun situation is getting a little bit better.  I struggle at times with feeling like a whole person.  Sometimes I feel invisible.

Yesterday, I changed my facebook profile to match who I actually am, a little more than ever before.  A small change, but it felt huge!  Me ‘n facebook:  about five years ago, a few friends were urging me to join.  I didn’t really want to, partially because I wasn’t out to this person and to that person, and there was no one way my profile could be that would make me feel both comfortable with not being out, and also happy.  I was so private about so many things.  However, I thought it might be beneficial to set up a facebook page for a performance group I was a part of.  I set that up as if it were a personal page (as opposed to a group page), but it wasn’t really personal at all.  And that’s how it’s been for 5 years.  I’ve maintained the page, updating about shows, posting pictures from past shows, etc.  For a while in there, a friend and I were co-operating the page.  The page is the group’s name – not my name.

However, the group has been defunct for the past two years or so.  I mean, we might put on another show at any time(!!!), but mostly, it’s inactive.  Meanwhile, I’ve been navigating facebook in a limbo-land.  I rarely ever post.  I “like” other people’s things as this group page.  Profile pictures have been performers.  Sometimes the profile pic is me, but I’m “in disguise.”  Some people know that I am this page, and they tag pics of me accordingly.  Others have probably been confused.  “My” birthday is listed as the date of this group’s inception.  It’s been weird and disjointed, but, strangely, reflective of how I feel in the world at large.

I’ve recently been in touch with an old friend via email and he asked me about facebook.  So I “friended” him through this page.  He later wrote to me [edited for length], “I assume you are “hidden” on facebook for a reason, but please know that I have had conversations with [mutual friend] and [your freshmen year roommate] about your whereabouts.  Please know that “out of sight, out of mind” has never applied regarding peoples’ affections for you.”  That hit me hard.  I simultaneously wanted to hug him and argue with him.

I’ve been trying to improve this outlook for a while, and take charge of all these fragmented feelings.  Yesterday, I finally decided to make some changes.  I switched the profile picture to a pic of my face, for the first time ever.  I’ve been taken aback by how many “likes” and comments this move has brought about.  It feels good.  I changed my birthday and my gender identity, to actually reflect who I am.  The profile is still in the group’s name, largely because 1) I don’t know if I want to easily be found by any and everyone at this point.  Er, I know that I don’t!  2) I don’t know what name I actually want to go by.

One day, I will have a name, gender identity, pronouns, and a life that is accessible and understood by everyone!  I have so far to go still.

 


Can hormones change my sexual orientation?

This was a huge reservation for me, before I started testosterone.  I had read enough personal accounts and spoken to enough friends that I had this somewhat common narrative in my mind:  someone who is FTM was primarily attracted to women before starting hormones.  Orientation then opened up / shifted, and this person now is attracted to both / all genders, or is now more attracted to men, or even exclusively attracted to men.  One common idea surrounding this is that the person always was attracted to men (if even just on a subconscious level), but could not fathom being intimate with a man, while being seen as a woman.  Another related idea is that the person identifies so strongly with being queer, that once he is finally perceived as a man, a new type of queer identity is now possible – one that may have been appealing all along.

OK – I’m done with the generalizing!  It’s super uncomfortable for me to paint broad strokes and write about a hypothetical person in such a detached manner.  I just wanted to get some initial thoughts down, some type of framework in which to plug my own narrative into.  Whether these ideas are all that accurate or common is largely beside the point.  The important part is that they were looming large for me.  I had some serious fears about it.

While I was coming out (sort of?) as a lesbian (sort of?) in my late-teens, I was mostly just befuddled.  I didn’t really understand physical and sexual attraction.  I thought I was probably just a late bloomer.  Now I understand that I’m probably a demisexual.  Although this (somewhat recent) revelation is fascinating, I don’t feel a strong attachment to this label or a strong need to figure out my sexual orientation in all ways, shapes, and forms.  It never caused me to feel much of a disconnect from others.  I mean, I generally felt a lot of disconnect from others, but I didn’t look to my sexuality as a way to figure out why that was.  It’s kinda, meh, for me…  Fascination, and not a whole lot more.  (Which is interesting because I usually love love love picking things apart!  Haha.)

I’m gonna jump over a whole bunch of years and land somewhere in my late 20s.  I’d been with my partner (she is a cisgender female, for the most part) for about 4 years at this point, and we were experiencing a long-term lull.  We weren’t connecting.  Everything felt dulled, foggy, I think for both of us (for different reasons).  I was feeling more and more drawn to guys, all around me, and could not sort out whether that was because I needed to be a guy, or if it was a sexual orientation thing (again, the lack of the physical attraction part was confusing.  It was more of a cerebral thing.)

I kind of decided that it was both.  I fantasized about a totally different life, where I was a guy, and I was with a hypothetical guy.  However, I did not want to break up with my partner.  I strongly felt that the tough place we were in was circumstantial and situational, and that we could work our way through it.  I wanted to work our way through it.  I wondered if a big key to working our way through it was:  for me to transition.  I felt this heavy burden of a circuitous fear:  I need to transition in order to get out of this place and improve our relationship; if I start transitioning, my gut is telling me that I will be even more drawn to guys, and I will want to end our relationship in order to pursue that.

I vividly recall, at one point, completely breaking down and telling her, while crying, that I was attracted to masculinity.  She didn’t seem surprised, or threatened; she didn’t shut down.  She stayed there with me, in that moment, and replied, “one of the many pitfalls of being in a queer relationship.”  I appreciated that reply so much, in the moment.  It felt like relief.  Sometimes, I make things overly-fraught; she brings it back down to earth.

She has since elaborated that she did indeed feel the heaviness of the situation.  Although we weren’t talking about all of this directly at the time, she recently told me that she knew.  And that she was going to support me in transitioning (whatever that looked like to me) unconditionally, at the risk of losing me along the way.  Wow.

While trying to sort that out, some life changes occurred that vastly improved things.  My partner got a new job, we shifted our approach to friendships, I went back to therapy.  Our relationship improved by leaps and bounds.

It was about two more years before I really found myself at that crossroads of needing to try testosterone (although I no longer planned to transition in that common-narrative way).  That fear was still there.  Although it felt like we had a solid foundation to work from, I worried, would things shift between my partner and me?  Would I start to be drawn exclusively to men?  Where would that lead us?  I started testosterone anyway.

Testosterone has changed things for me, but not in those ways I feared.  I’m attracted to my partner and also I’m attracted to men.  Sometimes I’m attracted to women; mostly, I’m attracted to androgyny and effemininity (effeminate men).  I don’t know what that all adds up to; I just call it “queer.”  The nature of attraction feels a little less cerebral, and a little more physiological than before.  I like that.  I think I still fall under the category of demisexual, for sure, but it does feel different.  My partner and I talk about all of it.  None of it is threatening to her.  None of it feels worrisome to me.  It’s all just puzzle pieces, that, although not straightforward or common, make more sense to me than my sexuality has ever made sense before.


When No Gender Fits: Washington Post Article

About five months ago, I did a phone interview with Monica Hesse of the Washington Post, as a potential candidate for an upcoming article about non-binary genders.  She was planning on spending a few days with the person / people she selected; it wasn’t just a matter of chatting with her over coffee.  It sounded really intensive and potentially uncomfortable at times.  I thought the interview went well, and I talked to my partner about the possibility of her hanging around with us for a while.  My partner was game.  I was game.

I got back to her with a few reservations:  When might this be, exactly?  (I really love being able to plan ahead.)  And, would you be coming to my work?!!  (I am not out at work as non-binary, and I could not fathom her being there with me, at all.)  She assured me that it was not a necessary part of her article, and it’d totally depend on who she ended up going with and what everyone was comfortable with.  She seemed well versed in trans issues and understood the need for partial anonymity or a potentially incomplete story.

She had a lot more phone interviews to get through, and as we messaged back and forth, it became clear her interest in me was waning.  I was pretty bummed.  It sounded like something I was ready to challenge myself with!  Of course, the disappointment faded with time.  I’ve been looking forward to catching the finished article.  Here it is!!!

When No Gender Fits:  A Quest to Be Seen as Just a Person

I think this article is really well done.  It covers important ground:  pronouns, the internal isolation such an identity can bring (when society has no starting point for understanding), family and friend relationships, coming out issues.  There is nothing sensational or hyped up about it – the reporter seems well informed and sensitive.

A major thing struck me.  This article is about a very young person.  Kelsey is 18 years old.  They are at a completely different life stage than I am at.  The article follows them over the entire summer.  It appears that the reporter spent many many days with Kelsey, over a matter of 4 months or so.  We get a glimpse into what’s going on, as they have concerns about clothing.  As they have difficult conversations with their mom.  As they go to a therapy appointment to discuss the possibilities of going on a low dose of testosterone.  As they talk about teenaged things with their teenaged friends.  As they meet someone they found through OKCupid, for the first time in person.  As they pack up and plan for life at college.

“They will go to college. They will study engineering. They will get a job. They will find a partner and make a home. They will begin with finding a T-shirt.”  This quote sums up the tone of the article.

Had I been the subject, it would have been nothing like this at all. I’ve been to college (glad that’s over with!!!). I have a job. I have a partner. We have made a home. I have a T-shirt. In fact, I have many T-shirts. Haha.

This story is no doubt important.  However (and I’m definitely biased here, bordering on ageist maybe) I think it’s really really necessary that there are representations of older, established non-binary people.  It’s not just a young people’s thing.  (Not to imply that young people will be growing out if it – they won’t be!)  I just mean that it’s not just something someone is focusing on at the time when they are naturally growing into their identities, just at the beginning of starting new chapters of their lives.  There is, relatively speaking, a lot of representations (if even just online only) of young people, starting to question and figure these things out.

Gender identity issues are multi-generational.  They are lifelong, and they come with different sets of challenges at different stages in life.  I hope more media outlets will start jumping on the bandwagon (in respectful ways!) and more articles will pop up, with more frequency, soon.  And that those articles will focus on other identities within non-binary genders, and different age brackets, different ethnic backgrounds, different socioeconomic backgrounds, etc.

And if I’m not seeing it, I’ve toyed with the idea of writing my own article, here.  Like, pretending I am a reporter, looking in.  Look for that in the near future, maybe!

 


1.5 years on T without noticeable masculinizing changes

It’s been a year and a half!  I increased my dosage of Androgel, slightly, about 3 months ago (from 1 pump of 1% daily to 1 pump of 1.62% daily), and still, I’m not seeing physical changes (which is still a big part of my goals).  I have still not yet missed a day – applying the gel feels of utmost importance to me, as a part of my daily routine.

Nothing can be new forever, unfortunately.  Naturally, I no longer have that same emotional reaction to applying the gel (anticipation, excitement).  And I haven’t been thinking about it in the same ways as I did every single day for that first year (how totally fucking awesome it is).  Still it feels very much essential.  It’s not nearly as constant, but I do still reflect on how different things are for me now.

– I am grateful that I consistently feel like eating at regular intervals now.
– I’m grateful that I no longer feel quite as debilitated by anxiety-induced adrenaline surges
– I’m grateful that physical sensations make more sense.  Pain actually feels painful.  I don’t recoil from affectionate touches.  When I take a deep breath, I feel a sense of calm and a connection to my body.  Etc. forever.
– I’m grateful that sex finally makes sense, and that I get to be a part of it (usually.  At least it’s much improved.)
– I’m grateful that although I’m still moody and seem to feel emotions relatively strongly, it’s become more manageable, and rarely manifests in self-destructive ways anymore.
– I’m grateful that I don’t feel so cold all the time!
– I’m grateful that things just feel easier, across the board.

I am genderqueer (in case you didn’t already know!) and am continuing to carve out a space in between genders.  Or, to mix and match genders as I see fit.  I feel like I’ve made a ton of progress in terms of finding that place where I feel like myself, in my own skin.  Yet, not nearly enough progress in terms of seeing that identity reflected back to me from the world around me.  This just means I have a long ways to go (And society has a much longer way to go.  C’mon society, get with it!) until I really feel comfortable with the ways I’m seen by others.  Luckily, that part is not nearly as important as the part about how I see myself.  🙂

Initially, I feel like I was being hyper vigilant about not crossing over into any masculinizing territory, especially with my voice dropping.  As time has gone on, I’m not quite so concerned with this (although I’m not actually trying for it either.)  I do wonder if my attitudes will change more, in this vein, and I’ll start to want to increase my dose even more and cross into that territory.  Only time will tell.  As of now, I’m feeling comfortable with where I am.

Here’s where I’ve been (there are lots of details about the subtle physical changes in these past posts):

Five months
Eight months
Eleven months
One year
A video at the one year mark
One point two-five years

And finally, a couple of pictures of my face:

1.5 years on testosterone

1.5 years on testosterone

1.25 years on testosterone

1.25 years on testosterone

one year on testosterone

one year on testosterone

 


Party, vacation, and TERFs

My partner and I made it through this party I’d been half-dreading, a party to celebrate our prior unification ritual.  It was a lot of things, but largely, it felt validating and joyous, in a chaotic sort of way.  It was fun; we would not do it again!  It was a different kind of experience for me; I was on a natural high for so long, it was starting to get tedious.  I mean, I’ve had a lot of extreme highs and lows in moods, over much longer periods of time, but this was somehow different.  Somehow much less scary.  I felt confident that even though I felt this way, I could depend on myself to do whatever it was I needed to do.  It was a high that was not really all that fun, in its duration.  Maybe I am growing up.

High extended roughly, from Thursday (kicking the planning for Saturday into high-gear,) till Tuesday (by then, we were in Northampton, MA for the start of our vacation, and the long drive to get there felt like it happened in a snap.)  I wasn’t hungry; I wasn’t sleeping well.  I was able to just keep going and going and going regardless.  I didn’t particularly feel euphoric or excited (I mean, I did at times, but not sustained.)  I basically started feeling like all I wanted was to get a full night’s sleep, an entire meal in my stomach, and to come down from wherever up-in-the-clouds I was.

CelebrationWOn our vacation, we stopped through Northampton and Spencer, MA before heading up to a tiny town (talking about a town with a church and a convenience store.  No gas station.) in central Maine.  We stayed with two friends who have an awesome cabin they’ve basically created themselves, over the past 10 years.  It sits on 50 acres of land, and they live there part time.  We went blueberry picking (organic!  $1.50/lb!!!), swimming in a very cold lake (when the air temp + rain hitting lake was even colder), trouncing through the woods a bit.  We kicked back, did some reading, connected with our friends, and heard stories about / met some of their neighbors.

At a rest stop on the way up there, I did an awkward dance with an older woman over the fact that I was in the women’s bathroom.  She spun around to walk back out and check if she was in the right one, sort of touching my shoulder to prevent a collision between us, saying she’s checking that this is the right bathroom.  I smiled and said, “Yep, it is.”  This, surprisingly, does not happen to me often at all.  I can’t even remember the last time.  I enjoyed the experience (since it wasn’t threatening or uncomfortable, was in a way validating.)

On our way back home, we stopped to stay in a tree-house!  IMG_0969And on our way from Maine to this tree-house, my partner read aloud an article from the August 4, 2014 edition of the New Yorker (p.24 – “What is a Woman?  The Dispute Between Radical Feminism and Transgenderism”).  I’ve never picked up a New Yorker before.  (I think maybe my partner hasn’t either, because she commented, “There are a lot of comics in here!”  Haha.)  It had been given to us by our friend in Maine, because she knew we’d be interested in this one article.

Imagine driving on winding roads through rural VT, rain coming down, having previously been bored out of my gourd, tired of our musical selections.  And suddenly being fully engaged in this topic that seemingly came out of nowhere (I mean, I know it came from the New Yorker; I just mean I wasn’t prepared for it, but it surely was a much needed distraction right then.)  At various points, I interrupted my partner to argue passionately both with the article itself and with the radical feminists the article was about.

Some of the gists:

– Not all, but some radical feminists still feel that transwomen are not women and will never be women (and that they benefit from male privilege…?).  These rad-fems continue to want to exclude transwomen from women-only spaces, and to invalidate their experiences in numerous other ways.  They reject the notion that someone could feel intrinsically female or male, and that all the ways that women and men are different are due to sociological forces and learned experiences only.

– The common term for these rad-fems is TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminists).

– Some TERFs are detransitioners, and TERFs often cite detransition as proof of the fallibility of transgenderism.  (Expert reports state that the percent of people who detransition is somewhere between 1% and 5%.  This is higher than I would guess, but hardly significant enough to attempt to build a case.)

– Some TERFs face threats, both in their personal and professional lives.  Situations have become so escalated at times, that they must be escorted by security to events and go underground in their academics.

There was so much more to this article (such as why FTMs are OK, but MTFs are a threat -???  Maybe I’ll return to the article for a more in depth future post); I highly recommend seeking it out if you can.  It was eye-opening for me because even though I’ve heard of this term (TERFs) and understand the basics of the arguments, this really painted a picture.  On the one hand, TERFs’ arguments are terribly weak and seem fueled by fear and a lack of understanding, with no efforts to begin understanding.

On the other hand, I find myself empathizing (just a little.)  “TERF” is not a self-describing term.  It is essentially yet one more slur, coming from others in sexual/gender minorities – people all too familiar with slurs themselves, usually.  These women have fought passionately (sometimes for decades and decades, creating groundbreaking groundwork) for changes in the view of what it means to be a woman, and now they’re kinda in over their heads here.  One final passage from the article that really sums up how this sub-group of rad-fems must feel,

“[These] radical feminists find themselves in a position that few would have imagined when the conflict began:  shunned as reactionaries on the wrong side of a sexual-rights issue.  It is, to them, a baffling political inversion.”

 

 


Good doctor news

Three months ago, I finally found a good doctor, but I was unsure if I’d be able to keep her.  I liked her style immediately – ability to communicate, upbeat and straightforward manner, etc.  And I liked her entire office’s professionalism.  However, she had no trans-related experience, and after I told her my reasons for being there, she seemed hesitant to keep me on as a patient.  She said she would look into finding a specialist I could go to, or at the very least, that she could consult with before proceeding.  In my head, I was thinking, “Good luck with finding people locally!  How do you think I ended up here, with you?!!”  Haha.

We had a follow-up appointment yesterday.  Going into it, I wasn’t sure if she was just going to say, “So I’m going to refer you to so-and-so,” and I’d have to start all over again with someone new.  I was nervous; I didn’t want that.  I had convinced myself, to an extent, that that was what was going to happen.

If you’re interested in reading through this epic journey to find a new doctor, here’s where I’ve been, in backwards order:

From 3 months ago, Convincing doctors that hormones are not that complicated
From 5 months ago, The last time I saw my doctor / I like your product
From 6 months ago, Continued quest to find a new doctor (a good fit?)
And from 7 months ago, just simply, I need to get a new doctor

At the appointment, we first discussed the fact that I went to the eye doctor, and that my vitamin D is low and I need to get supplements, and then finally discussed the reasons I’m there.  She said she did find two area specialists (one is an LGBTQ health center I’d rather not go through, and the other is an endocrinologist who focuses on adult health – good to know there is someone local, and that she uncovered him!)  She continued to tell me she does not think it’s necessary for me to go through either of these channels unless I want to, and that she will continue seeing me for low-dose testosterone therapy.  I was super happy but didn’t really let on.  I did tell her I am glad I can keep coming to see her though.  And that I don’t feel like I need to go to these other people unless something comes up.

I wonder what happened within that 3 month time span!  I think she did some research.  Or, in the process of reaching out to specialists, they conveyed to her that it was within her realm and abilities.  And then she did some research.  Something!

We discussed the labs I got done in May.  My T levels were at 68 ng/dl.  This surprised me quite a bit – previously, I was at 102 ng/dl.  I had somehow, without changing a thing, dipped back into a normal female range.  How does that work?

I know I should go by how I’m feeling, and not by numbers.  BUT – is it just a coincidence that I increased my testosterone dosage 2 months ago, just kinda because?  Because I felt like it?  Hmmm.  I’m super curious to know what my levels are now, accounting for the slight increase…  I’ll find out in 3 more months… (More labs.)

Until then, I just wanna revel in the fact that I finally have a primary care physician I would feel comfortable going to for any issue that comes up with my body, trans-related or not.  This is a first!

 


Words we use to describe ourselves

I recently mentioned an article called “A Gender Not Listed Here:  Genderqueers, Gender Rebels, and OtherWise,” which is based on findings from a survey conducted in 2008.  One of the most intriguing points to come from that (in my opinion) was all of the unique words and phrases respondents came up with to describe their gender.  Some of those were:  “jest-me,” “twidget,” “best of both,” “gender blur,” “cyborg,” and “genderqueer wombat fantastica.”

I also mentioned I had a list somewhere, where I had jotted down other terms.  I found that list!  So, to expand upon what respondents said:

  • a variation of nature
  • hybrid
  • pangender
  • ftx
  • tranarchist
  • and my favorite so far, “freemale.”

Also recently, Micah posted an ongoing poll which is generating a lot of great responses, as well.  A few faves from that, so far:

  • maverique
  • limp-wristed butch
  • boything
  • gender-meh
  • Alien Space Prince
  • fae
  • Royalty
  • kinda like an old, beaten-in sneaker
  • boydyke
  • feyboi
  • plastic
  • epicene

This language is so important.  Even if this is only how you see yourself internally, and you’d never actually use these words when you talk about yourself to others, the personal meaning behind it is rich with feelings of who we are, at our core.

As we try to sort out our identities, it is an amazing gift to have these options, all these creative bursts of self-expression, on hand for inspiration.  Looking back roughly 12 years ago, when I was first considering the nuances of gender identitiy, I started to learn of the terms “butch,” “transgender,” “genderqueer,” and not a whole lot more.  I remember someone referring to me as a “baby dyke” (because I’m so not butch), and that seemed maybe about right, but actually, no not really at all.  At the time, I thought I felt like neither gender, like there was a void where there should be gender.  I’ve come across dozens of ways to describe this experience lately, but at the time, I struggled with describing what that was, even if just to myself.

These days, I do not feel devoid of gender.  The way I replied to Micah’s survey was, “A kaleidoscope of all genders.”  That feels exactly right.  It feels like a rich mixture, flowing through my being, and constantly shifting internally, but held together by a relatively stagnant vessel (my body).  I mean, my body is in motion, but it’s not changing as much as many people who are trans.  Nor does my gender expression shift much.  It’s an internal feeling.

I wanna recommend this blog post, from a mother’s perspective.  She showed her son Micah’s question about how you describe your gender and they talked about some of people’s responses.  And it really seemed to open something up for him.  This is the kind of stuff we need!

Got descriptive words to add?  Join the conversation!

 


Gender identity related “to-do list”

About a month ago, I switched my Androgel dosage slightly.  From one pump of 1% daily to one pump of 1.62% daily.  I didn’t do this because I’m looking for more masculinizing changes.  (I’m not looking for this, still.)  I did it for these reasons:

  • I started on 1.62% initially, so I still had extra bottles of it.  I hate wasting things.
  • I have been told by pharmacists, twice, that 1% is going to be discontinued, and I should get my doctor to switch my prescription to 1.62%.  I’ve even been given coupon incentives to switch to 1.62%.  I think that the pharmacists are lying to me, and I will continue to ask for 1% until I absolutely cannot get it any longer.  It really freaked me out though, so I want to “test out” whether I’d be alright on 1.62% in case I abruptly need to switch in the future.
  • I’ve been feeling low, emotionally, and somewhat anxious.  I was hoping a slight increase might help jump-start me out of this funk.  (This has not happened, unfortunately.  I fully expect to be back to my normal self once summer is over though.)
  • My biggest reservation in increasing to this dosage, was my voice dropping.  That seemed like the one change that was on the precipice to shift, and I was really resistant to that for a very long time.  (Over a year.)  I continually brought it up in therapy.  (Her responses:  “Why?  Because you depend on your voice for x, y, and z?”  “Why?  Because you need your vocal range to stay exactly the same?”  “Why?  Because your singing range is of utmost importance?”  Etc.  Haha.)  For whatever reason, I’ve been letting go of that.  It’s no longer a worry.  And I’m fairly sure my “voice” is largely the same still, while my vocal range has indeed shifted, if that makes sense.

Another big change to highlight in my gender identity journey:

I finally came out to all of my extended family, on both my mom and dad’s side of the family.  I did this through emails.  (I’ve talked with my nuclear family in person.)  I largely did this because in some cases, I hadn’t shared anything personal about myself in a very long time, if ever (the fact that I’m in a relationship, the fact that we got married, etc.)  So it seemed like in sharing long-overdue news, I might as well throw in this other important-to-me stuff.  In other cases, I was inviting relatives to our having-gotten-married party (happening in 2 days!), and I needed them to know these things about me in advance.

Almost everyone at the party will be referring to me using male pronouns (my friends have been consistently doing this for years now which feels awesome), and I wanted those who didn’t know, to at least know.  I shared that I don’t feel either male nor female.  I shared that I’ve been on a low-dose of testosterone, and what that’s doing for me specifically.  I shared that my partner and I don’t use the terms “lesbians,” “wife,” etc. to refer to ourselves.  I shared that I prefer male pronouns, and I may legally change my name in the near future.  I welcomed any questions.

The most common response I got was:  no response.  Which is OK.  A few people replied in affirming ways, acknowledged what I’d told them, and that felt so awesome.  No one had any questions.  No one disparaged me or said anything inflammatory or negative.  None of the responses (or non-responses) surprised me.  None of this process changed the way I relate to my family.  In some ways, I’d like to change the way I relate to my family.  I would like to be closer with them.  But I’m not going to put all the pressure on the coming out process as a way to get me there…  If I did, everything would fall flat.

Next up on my gender-identity related to-do list:  come out at work.  YIKES!

Also, just a note:  I’ll be on a “true vacation” next week – one devoid of using the computer!!!  I’m psyched about this (and kinda really need it), but I will surely miss keeping up on blogs (it’s become a major part of my daily routine.)  I have a post scheduled, but other than that, I won’t be around for a while…


“A Gender Not Listed Here”

I attended the Philadelphia Trans-Health Conference back in mid-June and wrote a summary of the workshops I made it to, but I left out the details of one workshop because I felt it warranted a post all to itself.  I stumbled into “A Gender Not Listed here” late Saturday afternoon, feeling a little bit drained, but excited about the topic, which was going to be a summary and discussion of an article that was published in April, 2012.  The information was based on findings of a study completed by the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force and the National Center for Transgender Equality in 2008.  It surveyed 6,450 T-GNC-GQ  (transgender, gender non-conforming, genderqueer) individuals from all 50 states, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, Guam, and the U.S. Virgin Islands.  It is by far the largest sample size of this population to date.

(The presenters commented that they got a lot of flak from peers ahead of time – their colleagues thought it was foolish to put forth a 70 question survey, claiming people would not fill it out in its entirety.  To then see the number of completed surveys that came back is really a testament to how much this community craves to be heard, to share their thoughts, opinions, and identities.)

So, to reiterate, the survey was for anyone who identifies as transgender / gender non-conforming.  Question #3 of the survey asked, “What is your primary gender identity today?  1.Male/man, 2.Female/woman, 3.Part time as one gender, part time as another, 4.A gender not listed here, please specify _________”  This workshop honed in on the 13.3% of people who answered question #3 of the survey with option #4.  Most of the data was about how this statistically relates to other factors such as age, ethnicity, education, region, household income, and discriminatory factors (employment, health and health care, violence, etc.)

It was totally eye opening!  I had no idea this data has been out there, for a couple of years now.  Even just the knowledge that about 13% of people who identify as transgender also identify as neither male nor female (or living part time as such) is mind-blowing.  Not mind-blowing as in it’s surprisingly lower or surprisingly higher than I might have imagined (it’s not).  But mind-blowing as in there actually is a statistical estimate out there, at least for the US.  And why is this study not more widely known?!!

I’m not going to pick apart all the details of the statistical analyses, but I hope you might want to take a glance.  Here is a summary of the report, broken down really nicely:  Check out this modified version!

If you’re feeling ambitious and want to read the full 12 page report, it is here:  Genderqueers, Gender Rebels, and OtherWise!

A general overview might go something like this:  Those people who wrote in their own gender tend to be younger, more educated, less financially stable, and less likely to live in the midwest or south, and less likely to be white than their transgender counterparts.  Also, it has been determined that:

Despite their resilience and ability to define themselves in broader terms and to hold [different] ideas of identity in mind than conventional notions, overall Q3GNL participants face greater discrimination, risk, and violence than their transgender counterparts in most of the survey categories.”

Of course factors of privilege come into play, and it’s so convoluted to suss out what factors may lead to or predict other factors.  It’s simply a large data set from which future research can build from.  That’s part of the beauty of it – this information is public.  So, for example, if you’re a grad student who needs a thesis topic, or you’re just really good at stats and have lots of free time on your hands, there is plenty of work still to be done and conclusions to draw from the raw data.  Hopefully many will work with it in the future.

One other interesting point to highlight is word choice:  Since the question made room to fill in the blank, the range of terms for self-expression ended up being huge.  39% of Q3GNL participants wrote in “genderqueer,” 9.5% wrote in “both/neither, in-between, or non-binary,” 2.2% wrote “fluid.” …

16.8% chose another term all together, and that generated a list of over 100 unique words / phrases, including “jest-me,”twidget,” “best of both,” “gender blur,” “cyborg,” and “genderqueer wombat fantastica” hahaha.  I know I wrote down a list of a lot more, at the conference.  The presenters did a powerpoint presentation and the slide with all these identity ideas generated a lot of discussion.  As soon as I find that list, I will post whatever else it was that I wrote down.

Feels like I wanna get more creative with how I might describe myself!