asherdashery (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asherdashery) wrote2012-10-11 10:00 pm
asherdashery) wrote2012-10-11 10:00 pm
Entry tags:
Happy National Coming Out Day!
So for those who maybe somehow don't know, I'm a female-to-male transgender person and have been on the "out" spectrum since I was about sixteen. I'm pretty open about my status, and my last two years at college I told my story and answered questions for a couple different Coming Out panels for students and parents alike. I enjoyed doing it, and I think it's a useful thing to do--for my listeners maybe, but for me, too--and I thought I'd share my story again with you guys, since a lot of you haven't known me very long and maybe would find it interesting.
Every time I do this, I also think about what Zachary Quinto said when he came out a year ago--in short, my identity isn't really anybody's business to know, but if my being out as a cool LGBTQ person helps someone else out there, some kid who's scared and alone, feel okay about themselves, then of course I'm going to tell my story to help them. So here's my adventure through sexual and gender identity via the wonderful world of the internet.
Unlike a lot of the trans* people that make the media, I had no gender vs. sex issues as a kid. I apparently enjoyed dresses, the color purple, and Lisa Frank as much as any other little girl growing up in the 90's. I was kind of a tomboy, but not so much that it drew any notice, and certainly not enough to impact my concept of myself as girl.
I loved Beanie Babies--of course, my brother did, too--and fairies--of course, my brother did, too--and Sailor Moon--of course, my brother did, too. I also liked to catch tadpoles with my bare hands and dig for worms in the garden. I remember consciously deciding to prefer cats to dogs because cats were more of a girl thing and I remember being the Pink Power Ranger in all games of pretend, but I also remember being better at sports than my brother (not that he was any good) and how the majority of my friends until third grade were boys. I also remember thinking that I should've been the boy and my brother the girl, though never really taking it seriously.
My parents encouraged me to do whatever I was passionate about and tried to keep me well-rounded and never said something was girly or boyish or unladylike or whatever. I went through dance lessons, soccer, swimming, piano, boys' TV shows, girls' TV shows, and devoured books indiscriminately.
In third grade I transferred from public to private school for the first time, and with that came gendered uniforms. It was rigid: girls wore plaid skorts and boys wore black or khaki shorts, the end. I transferred again to a smaller private school where it was even more rigidly defined. Girls wore green skorts and pinstriped blouses, had to fold their socks a certain way and wear penny loafers or saddle shoes. Boys wore green polo shirts and khaki pants with a belt, and there weren't any rules about socks. On Wednesdays, everyone wore blazers, but girls' were white and boys' were green. Boys also had to wear a tie. Only the P.E. uniforms were the same, though boys' and girls' P.E. classes were completely segregated most of the time. Some regulations were relaxed in middle and upper school, but the division between male and female remained both visible and rigid.
I met my future first girlfriend, Emmi, the summer before eighth grade. She lived in New Jersey and I in South Florida, but my best friend met her at summer camp and told us that we were like basically the same. We hit it off, and most of my RP experience from then on was defined by her presence and the fun things we tried to make together.
Early in eighth grade I started internet dating an eighteen-year-old who lived in England.
In hindsight, I don't count this relationship as very important. It was way more about having a boyfriend than any emotional investment on my part, which I'm kind of ashamed about now. It's just, my best friend at the time (a different best friend from before) was involved over the internet with a 26-year-old in, like, Wisconsin or something, and Damien RPed with me and clearly liked me and was flirting with me, and gosh, this must be love! And having a boyfriend was something girls were supposed to do.
My parents eventually found out and actually let me meet him. They flew him from England to New York while we were visiting there for spring break, and I had my first kiss sneaky and awkward in a hotel room before we all went out for whatever tourist thing we were doing, and I realized I didn't really care about him.
Emmi and Damien and I all hung out at one point and it was terribly awkward.
I dumped Damien about a month later (the relationship itself lasted about a year, I think) and spent some time single and fancy free. And then, just a few months later in October of sophomore year, it hit me really, really hard.
I was in love with Emmi.
Sexuality wasn't even a concern for me at this point. I don't remember ever thinking about it. All I could think about was her, and this wondrous, terrifying, all-consuming feeling inside me where I wanted to be with her all the time and I wanted to fix all her problems and I just. I wanted. I wanted her so badly.
Maybe it's because I learned about homosexuality through fanfiction, where it was just sort of a given that any boys who so much as looked at one another wanted to and were going to make out. I don't remember my parents ever mentioning it to me, though they certainly never denounced it and I learned later were always pretty supportive of LGBT rights, though now I don't think they knew much about it before they had to deal with me. I had no real feeling that homosexuality or bisexuality was wrong or good or anything, it was just sort of there and a normal, established fact for me and thus not really important. Even now, I think my sexual identity remains kind of fluid because of this.
Long story short, Emmi and I started internet dating. The first six months were absolutely fantastic. I loved her. She loved me. I could comfort and protect her and share worlds with her exclusively. I guess it's probably worth mentioning at this point that all my relationships have A) taken place mostly online and B) been with fellow RPers.
Sometime during this period of teenage bliss, I started feeling uncomfortable referring to myself with female pronouns. Maybe I wouldn't have noticed IRL, but when I'm, you know, basically role-playing myself online with my internet girlfriend as if I were actually there, all "*holds her close and nuzzles*" that stuff tends to be important. I talked to her about it, and I made the--unnatural, for me--switch to first-person for a while, and then she linked me to the Wikipedia article for "transgender."
I read it, and at that point I didn't actually connect with much of it. I just sort of went, okay, that's interesting, and put it away. But then a little bit later, I tried using male pronouns to refer to myself and it felt so right.
I suspect that some of Emmi's prodding me in this direction came from her insecurity about her sexual identity. She never stopped identifying as straight, and she later told me (though I have my doubts about this) that she always thought of me as male. It must've made it easier for her to think of me as her boyfriend and not have to deal with examining her own identity.
And you know, that's okay. Identity is of course important to the individual--I mean, it's meant to be what MAKES a person an individual. But identity isn't formed in a vacuum. I feel like a lot of talks about developing and asserting your identity don't take the social aspect into account, and also lock people into this idea of an inflexible, "authentic" identity that doesn't allow, once claimed, for growth or change. You're allowed to be unsure about things society tells you are basic tenets of who you are! Explore, and don't stop exploring. There is no endpoint that you have to reach in order to be a real person. Don't stop short of being comfortable with yourself just so you can have a cozy label. That's my tired-person advice, at least.
Anyway, during and after my transition from female to male pronouns, I was also starting to change my appearance and behaviors to look more stereotypically male. I'd already cut my hair short because of a donation I'd made to Locks of Love, but I continued to make it even shorter. I bought a couple pairs of khaki pants to wear to school--not shorts, because I was still uncomfortable showing that I was no longer shaving my legs, and also self-conscious about my weight (I still am). My gender identity was still a private thing between me and Emmi, but I started not mentioning my gender to people on the internet and hoping they'd take me for male.
I did come out to some of my high school friends--the ones I was closest to--and actually one friend came out to me as a lesbian at exactly the same time. We later went on to be GSA officers together.
The way my parents found out my gender/sexual identity was that my dad walked in on me and Emmi sharing a bed the August before senior year. My mom had to fly home from where she was helping with summer camp in Pennsylvania to deal with the fallout. Everything was miserable and horrible and I cried when he talked to me about it. The rest of Emmi's stay with us was ruined, and also things between us had gone south for me about a year into the relationship. My actual relationship journal entry can come another time. But yes, this was my coming out--crying and telling my dad, no, I'm not a lesbian, I'm a boy.
The relationship I have with my dad has never been the same. We've always been the closest in temperament--easy-going, smart, what have you--but he did not take it well and I didn't take his not taking it well well. He's supposedly accepted it now but I have no desire to really talk to him anymore, though I try because I don't want him to feel bad. Mom probably had a more dramatic reaction at first, but she became so supportive of me and so, uh, enthusiastic about learning what she could and diving into trans* culture that it honestly kind of weirded me out for a while. We've been really close since. My brother took it pretty well, too, but I never expected less from him. He and I have always been tight, and he admires everything I do. I don't think he fully understands everything and even now sometimes he says insensitive things that he doesn't mean, but I know it's just so he can see how I'll react so he can understand it better.
My mom's been the one to more or less out me to the rest of the family, mostly over Facebook (which I don't really use), and that's been fine. Takes the pressure off me, since I don't really care what most of them think, though apparently most reactions have been positive. Which is kind of surprising, given that her half of the family are devout Catholics, but that's the thing--most people are really cool. My paternal grandparents--the only extended family I'm close to--have been really good, and though my grandma forgets and misgenders me all the time, my grandpa has been absolutely amazing. He's actually told me he likes me better now, and we talk all the time about things he'd never tell anybody else.
As for my relationship with my own identity, I'd say I'm pretty comfortable with it now. I haven't actually been proactive about getting a name change or hormone therapy or surgery--I don't even know what obtaining all of that would take, haven't done the research--and some of that is fear and inertia but some of it is that honestly I'm okay with who I am and my body more or less as it is. I don't have to buy into the established transgender narrative, because hey, any set rules are basically BS and I can do what I want when I want. On those days I want to look super fine, I've got two binders, but I'm lucky enough to be pretty small in the chest area to start with so most days I forgo it just because breathing is a thing I like to be able to do. And everything's okay. I'm really happy with who I am.
I guess what I want people to take away from this--and from anyone's Coming Out story--is that it's okay to be you, and it's okay to be you in a way that rejects the supposedly established practices of the identity you identify with because all narratives are dumb, and it's just in general okay!
Also I guess the role the internet has played in my personal development is always really fascinating to think about. Our generation is so neat, guys.
EDIT: And as an addendum, I guess I wouldn’t recommend letting your family find out about your sexuality by finding you in bed in your house with someone. It was just unpleasant all around.
Every time I do this, I also think about what Zachary Quinto said when he came out a year ago--in short, my identity isn't really anybody's business to know, but if my being out as a cool LGBTQ person helps someone else out there, some kid who's scared and alone, feel okay about themselves, then of course I'm going to tell my story to help them. So here's my adventure through sexual and gender identity via the wonderful world of the internet.
Unlike a lot of the trans* people that make the media, I had no gender vs. sex issues as a kid. I apparently enjoyed dresses, the color purple, and Lisa Frank as much as any other little girl growing up in the 90's. I was kind of a tomboy, but not so much that it drew any notice, and certainly not enough to impact my concept of myself as girl.
I loved Beanie Babies--of course, my brother did, too--and fairies--of course, my brother did, too--and Sailor Moon--of course, my brother did, too. I also liked to catch tadpoles with my bare hands and dig for worms in the garden. I remember consciously deciding to prefer cats to dogs because cats were more of a girl thing and I remember being the Pink Power Ranger in all games of pretend, but I also remember being better at sports than my brother (not that he was any good) and how the majority of my friends until third grade were boys. I also remember thinking that I should've been the boy and my brother the girl, though never really taking it seriously.
My parents encouraged me to do whatever I was passionate about and tried to keep me well-rounded and never said something was girly or boyish or unladylike or whatever. I went through dance lessons, soccer, swimming, piano, boys' TV shows, girls' TV shows, and devoured books indiscriminately.
In third grade I transferred from public to private school for the first time, and with that came gendered uniforms. It was rigid: girls wore plaid skorts and boys wore black or khaki shorts, the end. I transferred again to a smaller private school where it was even more rigidly defined. Girls wore green skorts and pinstriped blouses, had to fold their socks a certain way and wear penny loafers or saddle shoes. Boys wore green polo shirts and khaki pants with a belt, and there weren't any rules about socks. On Wednesdays, everyone wore blazers, but girls' were white and boys' were green. Boys also had to wear a tie. Only the P.E. uniforms were the same, though boys' and girls' P.E. classes were completely segregated most of the time. Some regulations were relaxed in middle and upper school, but the division between male and female remained both visible and rigid.
I met my future first girlfriend, Emmi, the summer before eighth grade. She lived in New Jersey and I in South Florida, but my best friend met her at summer camp and told us that we were like basically the same. We hit it off, and most of my RP experience from then on was defined by her presence and the fun things we tried to make together.
Early in eighth grade I started internet dating an eighteen-year-old who lived in England.
In hindsight, I don't count this relationship as very important. It was way more about having a boyfriend than any emotional investment on my part, which I'm kind of ashamed about now. It's just, my best friend at the time (a different best friend from before) was involved over the internet with a 26-year-old in, like, Wisconsin or something, and Damien RPed with me and clearly liked me and was flirting with me, and gosh, this must be love! And having a boyfriend was something girls were supposed to do.
My parents eventually found out and actually let me meet him. They flew him from England to New York while we were visiting there for spring break, and I had my first kiss sneaky and awkward in a hotel room before we all went out for whatever tourist thing we were doing, and I realized I didn't really care about him.
Emmi and Damien and I all hung out at one point and it was terribly awkward.
I dumped Damien about a month later (the relationship itself lasted about a year, I think) and spent some time single and fancy free. And then, just a few months later in October of sophomore year, it hit me really, really hard.
I was in love with Emmi.
Sexuality wasn't even a concern for me at this point. I don't remember ever thinking about it. All I could think about was her, and this wondrous, terrifying, all-consuming feeling inside me where I wanted to be with her all the time and I wanted to fix all her problems and I just. I wanted. I wanted her so badly.
Maybe it's because I learned about homosexuality through fanfiction, where it was just sort of a given that any boys who so much as looked at one another wanted to and were going to make out. I don't remember my parents ever mentioning it to me, though they certainly never denounced it and I learned later were always pretty supportive of LGBT rights, though now I don't think they knew much about it before they had to deal with me. I had no real feeling that homosexuality or bisexuality was wrong or good or anything, it was just sort of there and a normal, established fact for me and thus not really important. Even now, I think my sexual identity remains kind of fluid because of this.
Long story short, Emmi and I started internet dating. The first six months were absolutely fantastic. I loved her. She loved me. I could comfort and protect her and share worlds with her exclusively. I guess it's probably worth mentioning at this point that all my relationships have A) taken place mostly online and B) been with fellow RPers.
Sometime during this period of teenage bliss, I started feeling uncomfortable referring to myself with female pronouns. Maybe I wouldn't have noticed IRL, but when I'm, you know, basically role-playing myself online with my internet girlfriend as if I were actually there, all "*holds her close and nuzzles*" that stuff tends to be important. I talked to her about it, and I made the--unnatural, for me--switch to first-person for a while, and then she linked me to the Wikipedia article for "transgender."
I read it, and at that point I didn't actually connect with much of it. I just sort of went, okay, that's interesting, and put it away. But then a little bit later, I tried using male pronouns to refer to myself and it felt so right.
I suspect that some of Emmi's prodding me in this direction came from her insecurity about her sexual identity. She never stopped identifying as straight, and she later told me (though I have my doubts about this) that she always thought of me as male. It must've made it easier for her to think of me as her boyfriend and not have to deal with examining her own identity.
And you know, that's okay. Identity is of course important to the individual--I mean, it's meant to be what MAKES a person an individual. But identity isn't formed in a vacuum. I feel like a lot of talks about developing and asserting your identity don't take the social aspect into account, and also lock people into this idea of an inflexible, "authentic" identity that doesn't allow, once claimed, for growth or change. You're allowed to be unsure about things society tells you are basic tenets of who you are! Explore, and don't stop exploring. There is no endpoint that you have to reach in order to be a real person. Don't stop short of being comfortable with yourself just so you can have a cozy label. That's my tired-person advice, at least.
Anyway, during and after my transition from female to male pronouns, I was also starting to change my appearance and behaviors to look more stereotypically male. I'd already cut my hair short because of a donation I'd made to Locks of Love, but I continued to make it even shorter. I bought a couple pairs of khaki pants to wear to school--not shorts, because I was still uncomfortable showing that I was no longer shaving my legs, and also self-conscious about my weight (I still am). My gender identity was still a private thing between me and Emmi, but I started not mentioning my gender to people on the internet and hoping they'd take me for male.
I did come out to some of my high school friends--the ones I was closest to--and actually one friend came out to me as a lesbian at exactly the same time. We later went on to be GSA officers together.
The way my parents found out my gender/sexual identity was that my dad walked in on me and Emmi sharing a bed the August before senior year. My mom had to fly home from where she was helping with summer camp in Pennsylvania to deal with the fallout. Everything was miserable and horrible and I cried when he talked to me about it. The rest of Emmi's stay with us was ruined, and also things between us had gone south for me about a year into the relationship. My actual relationship journal entry can come another time. But yes, this was my coming out--crying and telling my dad, no, I'm not a lesbian, I'm a boy.
The relationship I have with my dad has never been the same. We've always been the closest in temperament--easy-going, smart, what have you--but he did not take it well and I didn't take his not taking it well well. He's supposedly accepted it now but I have no desire to really talk to him anymore, though I try because I don't want him to feel bad. Mom probably had a more dramatic reaction at first, but she became so supportive of me and so, uh, enthusiastic about learning what she could and diving into trans* culture that it honestly kind of weirded me out for a while. We've been really close since. My brother took it pretty well, too, but I never expected less from him. He and I have always been tight, and he admires everything I do. I don't think he fully understands everything and even now sometimes he says insensitive things that he doesn't mean, but I know it's just so he can see how I'll react so he can understand it better.
My mom's been the one to more or less out me to the rest of the family, mostly over Facebook (which I don't really use), and that's been fine. Takes the pressure off me, since I don't really care what most of them think, though apparently most reactions have been positive. Which is kind of surprising, given that her half of the family are devout Catholics, but that's the thing--most people are really cool. My paternal grandparents--the only extended family I'm close to--have been really good, and though my grandma forgets and misgenders me all the time, my grandpa has been absolutely amazing. He's actually told me he likes me better now, and we talk all the time about things he'd never tell anybody else.
As for my relationship with my own identity, I'd say I'm pretty comfortable with it now. I haven't actually been proactive about getting a name change or hormone therapy or surgery--I don't even know what obtaining all of that would take, haven't done the research--and some of that is fear and inertia but some of it is that honestly I'm okay with who I am and my body more or less as it is. I don't have to buy into the established transgender narrative, because hey, any set rules are basically BS and I can do what I want when I want. On those days I want to look super fine, I've got two binders, but I'm lucky enough to be pretty small in the chest area to start with so most days I forgo it just because breathing is a thing I like to be able to do. And everything's okay. I'm really happy with who I am.
I guess what I want people to take away from this--and from anyone's Coming Out story--is that it's okay to be you, and it's okay to be you in a way that rejects the supposedly established practices of the identity you identify with because all narratives are dumb, and it's just in general okay!
Also I guess the role the internet has played in my personal development is always really fascinating to think about. Our generation is so neat, guys.
EDIT: And as an addendum, I guess I wouldn’t recommend letting your family find out about your sexuality by finding you in bed in your house with someone. It was just unpleasant all around.