The Word Is Transgender… Not Trans-Jenner

11178376_10206498349237647_6212748240193972348_nRelax: this is not yet another analysis of what Bruce Jenner said, and like most everyone else, I am using male pronouns because that appears to be what he and his family want, and I respect that. If that changes, I’ll follow suit.

What this is, will likely take you by surprise. Buckle up, buttercup.

Earlier this year I wrote a plea that we needed to let Jenner tell us what if anything he was doing, even though it seemed pretty damn clear he was undergoing a gender transition. Now that he has spoken and confirmed that, it’s time for a follow-up.

And as I did before, I am going to devote more words to me and my experience rather than to his, because even if you didn’t watch all two hours — which I did, my spouse did, even my kids did (most of it, at least; they fled as soon as Diane Sawyer started talking about the Kardashians) — even if you avoided all the articles, you probably have an idea that Bruce Jenner confirmed he is trans. He actually said: “I am a woman.”

But am I?

Whoa — what? Is this another bout of amnesia? Am I going “back and forth” again?!? Perhaps I am a Time Lord as one of my friends calls me, or I’m “waffling” again as another friend ribbed me to no end?

No, I’m just being honest, which is what I’ve always been, and by the way: you cannot tell me I am wrong, because this is about how I feel. And how I feel is how I feel. If you still think I’m wrong after reading the rest, well, that’s why we have horse races, as my grandfather liked to say.

So back to my question: am I a woman?

I’m not denying I am trans, and no, really: I am not detransitioning. I am not denying my mind and my soul are female and that I feel very much in sync with the female gender. I enjoy my femininity and I’m not ashamed to say so, just as I never despised being a male or any part of my former male identity. I was assigned male at birth. And 40 years later, there came a time in which, after a long struggle, I stopped fighting, I stopped pretending and embraced that my true gender is female and that although I could present as male, it didn’t feel natural. It no longer fit me.

But if I’m not a man, does that make me a woman? Well, if someone else assigned male at birth lays claim to being a woman, I’ll take them at their word. I’m only asking about me. And please note: I am not using the adjective “real” here, as if to differentiate between a woman and a “real woman.” That’s offensive, in my book. We are all of us real… some more than others!

11150410_10206435085336089_2894930514843387634_nMy body has undergone very distinct and gender appropriate changes (without the benefit of surgery). I’ve got a face that appears feminine enough, wide hips, a healthy butt and generous boobs. I’ve lactated; I could have nursed if I chose to. Sitting down (or squatting) to pee is my only option without making a mess; no more writing my name in the snow for me!

And my instincts are distinctly, if not stereotypically, feminine: I prefer collaboration to confrontation; I’m a gatherer and a listener; I find shopping therapeutic; I’m in control of my emotions but it doesn’t take much for me to feel empathy or to cry; I have close female friends who I treasure, and I enjoy our ability to share our misadventures without judgment; I am strong, but I can be my own worst enemy, and my maternal drive is fine tuned. I watch over my kids like a hawk, anticipating their needs and reveling in how I can provide for them, from sustenance to spirit-building. I am not their mom; they have a wonderful mother who loves them and cares for them equally if not more. But it’s clear to my kids, who still call me “dad,” that I’m a lot more than just their dad.

Perhaps given all these facts you need to consider me as something separate, something like… “transgender woman.”

It does fit; to every woman who grew up as a girl, to every girl who aspires to be a woman, and to every mother and grandmother and wife and daughter, I can sense what you feel and I can understand what that feeling means to you… but I cannot feel as you do.

I don’t know what a period feels like, even though I’ve had stomach cramps and PMS-like hormone-driven mood swings and cravings. I’ll never know what it’s like to feel life growing within me, to carry a child inside me or to bring a baby into the world. I have only a small sense of the incredible humongous exaltation that intercourse and orgasm must be like for a woman; that is something I hope to be able to fully experience someday.

And then? Well, then, certainly I should be entitled to declare, “I am woman.”

I will not say, “hear me roar.”

Let me be clear: I am not claiming someone needs to be a mother to be a woman, nor that a vagina is what defines a human being as a woman. It’s what’s between our ears not our legs that defines our gender. Me included. I just think the difference between “woman” and “transgender woman” is one worth noting, when appropriate. 

Just as you might say bald white guy, or red-headed woman or Asian child, it’s rarely necessary to point out the difference, and downright wrong to discriminate based on those differences. 

But treating everyone fairly as fellow human beings doesn’t erase our differences, and shouldn’t! I’m Irish. I am right-handed and have blue eyes. Does that matter? Not particularly. 

But when and if it does, I’ll gladly say, that’s me. The same applies to my womanhood.

So, If someone calls me a woman or picks up on the obvious visual cues, and sees me as a woman, I won’t correct them. But I also won’t deny I am a transgender woman. In some circumstances, I do sometimes out myself as trans because it’s relevant or necessary. I’m lucky that in most cases, it’s not, and I don’t feel compelled to share my personal life with acquaintances or strangers.

So, stranger… why am I sharing this with you?

Because I felt it necessary to underscore what Jenner and the awesome team at ABC News made clear: that being trans is just another way to be. We bleed, we sing, we feel heartbreak, we feel joy. We want to be loved, and when love is not possible, or offered, many of us would be happy to settle for being accepted and understood. We know what it feels like to have love withdrawn, to have a phone conversation end abruptly. We share the pain of feeling a door slammed in our face or a punch landing on our jaw. Some of us have been raped, beaten, stabbed, shot, burned, tortured, mutilated and murdered.

Because we’re trans.

Jenner is among us now, and I for one welcome him, and embrace the struggle that in some ways, perhaps many ways, matched my own.

Bruce-Jenner-interview-x400But we are not Bruce Jenner, folks. He’s not us. He said very clearly he is not our spokesperson and wants to do good, and all that is very welcome.

No one is asking him to be our icon, our standard bearer, our hero. And the hope is that the media publicity machine won’t try to do that, despite Kardashian evidence to the contrary.

I encourage Jenner to listen, and not talk, so he can learn about others’ experiences, about trans women of color, about trans men, about the children whose parents can’t accept them as trans, and the supportive moms and dads who worry their child will never really be happy because of transphobia and prejudice. I hope he keeps praying, as I have, knowing God loves us. Even us.

And he will make mistakes. God knows I have, and I am blessed to know His forgiveness. As Jenner said, I have apologized for my life, to everybody, and I will keep doing so as each day adds to another in a string of days living true. April 29th will mark two years since I chose my name and made it my own, forever.

I won’t deny Jenner his right to call himself a woman, or anyone else. I don’t think of myself as “less than” because I prefer to use the term “transgender woman.”  As a journalist whose job is to parse those kinds of differences, I feel better having done so.

But given that my job is to tell stories, let us now find those whose stories must be told, in addition to Bruce’s. My dear friend Jennell Jaquays offered a laundry list of transgender men and transgender women whose lives matter and merit a spotlight twice as big as the one in Malibu. A trans woman writer I’ve known longer than almost any other, Ina Fried, compared this moment Jenner has created to the one Ellen brought about, when at last it was okay to be gay; the hope is the same could happen to those like Ina and me who are transgender.

Let’s remember that after Ellen came out, we moved on, and learned our gay neighbor is just another neighbor, that the lesbian who works in the cubicle across the way isn’t anything more or less than another co-worker.

And me? I’m on my way to being just another woman. But today, I am a transgender woman, and have been for awhile now.

Still, I would be grateful to you for thinking of me as… just another woman.

11046378_10206428533692302_2786928928095290804_oLove,

Dawn

XOXO

Edible Art (for Deep Pockets)

Yes, yes, I am writing a new blog entry but here is something sweet to hold you over until I am done. My fantastic friend Donna has a blog that each day offers its readers one beautiful thing to ponder, digest, or in the case of today’s entry, literally digest! Read and behold her OBT!

My OBT

Edible Sea GlassEdible Beach Glass by AndiesSpecialtySweets

You know I spend a lot of time goofing on Etsy. But as much as I enjoy the Etsy disasters (and I do), I am even more delighted when I find a seller whose wares inspire and intrigue me, and AndieSpecialSweets is definitely one of those.

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Living Cis in a Trans World

My friend Rachel Regalado posted this one year, and I must agree: I would wonder at times why no one could see “the guy in a dress” that everyone expects when they hear the word “transgender.” The truth is, I don’t wear women’s clothes; I wear MY clothes, which just so happen to be designed and manufactured for women… and then bought by a woman. This woman.

So a day late for “Transgender Day of Visibility,” and without further adieu, Rachel has the floor:

The following is a reblog from thefrugalcd:

My new life as a transexual

I thought in honor of the Transgender Day of Visibility, I would post this.

I had to go to the local urgent care facility the other night. The attending doctor brought up my medical record and started asking questions. First off she remarked about my age, “you are almost 50? Wow, you look so young.” I blushed. “I see you are on progesterone; do you still have your uterus?” This confused me and I said no. “When was your hysterectomy?” I had to stop her at this point to mention I was a male to female trans person. I was never born with female reproductive organs.

This made her pause and stare. That’s when I realized she never paid attention to my gender marker which clearly says ‘M’. “You look amazing, very pretty”, said the doctor. “I’ve had transexual patients before, but you, I would never had guessed.” She finished her exam and concluded I had a UTI. After entering my prescription for antibiotics, she stared at me again. “You haven’t had any surgeries?” I shook my head no. She said “you are a very lucky woman”.

“You are a very lucky woman,” I started thinking about that. I don’t feel lucky. I was born with a defect that caused my mind to be misaligned with my body. During my childhood I was raised to live as the gender that was counter to my internal sense of gender. I even grew up believing that I was male. I tailored my life to fit that assumption until it became impossible for me to continue. I don’t call that luck. More like a curse.

“Lucky woman”. If I take a look at how my transition has gone I guess others (especially trans folk) would consider me lucky. My body is slight of build and my features soft compared to most males. I am short for a man but average height for a woman. In grade school and even beyond, people remarked at how feminine my hands were. I do not suffer from male pattern baldness. My Adam’s apple is not prominent. I wear a woman’s size 8 shoe. I am wholly unremarkable.

I live a life one would consider semi-stealth. I don’t advertise I am trans. However, I do not deny it if asked. But I’m not asked often. Even when I have to present my ID which hasn’t been changed I get people telling me  I have my husband’s ID. A few have expressed bewilderment that I am still forced to use that documentation. All the while I am still gendered in their eyes as female. They rarely use the wrong pronouns.

Why then would I consider all this as my doing an injustice to the trans community. For the very reason that I am not visible. I am not an example for trans people because the public doesn’t consider me trans. People expect masculine features, a heavy voice, prominent Adam’s apple or big hands. They almost expect a ‘man in a dress’ which trans people (MTF) definitely are not. I do not willfully out myself to make a point or to educate others. I don’t march in pride parades or do any public speaking. There are members of my own community who look at me with envy or jealousy. I feel unwelcome at times because of this. Also my trans narrative doesn’t fit the ones we come to regard as commonplace for MTF trans people. As such I don’t share what would be considered common experiences many transgender people have. No one has cast trans slurs at me. I have not been openly discriminated against because of my appearance or manner.  I have never been denied medical treatment because I am trans. I am not divorced or have estranged children or family members.

There are times I laugh to myself. A horrible, cynical laugh. I look at the people who call me ma’am and miss and wonder if they are blind. I want to know why they can’t see the obvious masculine traits I see in the mirror every morning. I can’t believe they just gloss over the light stubble on my jaw and upper lip. How can they possibly hear my obviously non female voice and still gender me female?

What it all comes down to is they see a woman, plain and simple. They don’t pick up on a masculine vibe that isn’t there. They don’t see hard edges and strong features that never really existed. They hear a voice that has the right intonation if not the right pitch. The world believes me to be another cisgender woman. In my heart and soul I know myself as trans. I am invisible in my visibility.

thefrugalcd

I thought in honor of the Transgender Day of Visibility, I would post this.

I had to go to the local urgent care facility the other night. The attending doctor brought up my medical record and started asking questions. First off she remarked about my age, “you are almost 50? Wow, you look so young.” I blushed. “I see you are on progesterone; do you still have your uterus?” This confused me and I said no. “When was your hysterectomy?” I had to stop her at this point to mention I was a male to female trans person. I was never born with female reproductive organs.

This made her pause and stare. That’s when I realized she never paid attention to my gender marker which clearly says ‘M’. “You look amazing, very pretty”, said the doctor. “I’ve had transexual patients before, but you, I would never had guessed.” She finished…

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