Not Another Aiden

Ever since I was a little trans boy living as a girl, I’ve felt the need to protect the girls and women in my life from those who are abusive.  Perhaps it was my childhood environment that led to this – I grew up in a dirt-poor, “white-trash” household with a distant mother, a sister who was sexually abused, and an estranged father.  I didn’t know love, affection, respect, boundaries, discipline, and feminism.  Life was hard and women were treated the worst.

Lucky for me, I was a very strong “girl” – I could beat any boy in the class at arm wrestling, sprinting or basically anything to do with strength.  I was very rough and tumble and was often referred to as a tomboy because I was so dominant and refused to wear dresses.  I don’t bring this up to brag, in fact, I hated standing out that much, regardless of how much I actually used my talents.  You see, I am a gentle soul – I am very sensitive, highly anxious, and slightly autistic.  I’m also extremely protective of what I hold dear – perhaps a reaction to my childhood – which directs my attention toward people who get treated unfairly, usually women  I’ve never fit in myself, so when I see injustice, I feel the need to stop it.

When I was young, my version of stopping injustice involved beating the perpetrator up.  Sure, I wouldn’t recommend it, but at the time, it seemed appropriate.  If the boys decided it was “Friday Flip Up Day”, in which they hassled the girls who were wearing skirts, I patrolled the area where my friends were hanging out at recess.  This is not an exaggeration.  My first fight involved me punching a boy who tried to kiss my friend on the cheek and then chased her when she refused – this was in 1st grade.  At recess I stood guard always making sure that my friends didn’t have to worry about what they boys were up to.  For my work, I was rewarded with loyal friends and boys who hated me for humiliating them.  To me, it was a fair trade-off and I continued until I could no longer fend the boys off (about sixth grade).  [I would like to point out that I was never officially punished. In fact, many of my teachers thought it was awesome.]

To this day, I abhor sexism and the insidious ways that it keeps women and girls in their place and elevates men who don’t deserve the praise.  I became an official feminist in college, although it never became my field of study (I prefer math and science), but I definitely dabbled and had friends who were also ardent feminists.  They taught me a lot of what they learned in classes and I appreciated the knowledge.  This knowledge led me to all sorts of places and perhaps the most important – accepting my transsexuality.  When I came out to my friends, I was under the erroneous assumption that they would accept it as well, but I was wrong.  They didn’t understand, they refused to talk about feminism anymore, they called me a traitor, they stopped calling.  I felt betrayed, cast away, discarded.    Often I wondered how much is due to the underlying anti-trans sentiments of some feminist arguments or to the ingrained transphobia in our culture.  Most of me, though, no longer cared, as I had lost everything that was dear to me for speaking my truth.  My world felt twisted and upside-down – it didn’t make any sense.  How could something that felt so right for so long, suddenly make me feel like a monster when I had done nothing wrong?

What I can see now that I couldn’t see then is that both sides felt betrayed.  We all lost innocence about feminism that day or at-least were faced with the limitations of feminism.  As someone who was assigned female and was forced to live the life of a straight woman for 20 years, I do have insight into how women are treated.  But I maintain that I will never know what its like to actually *be* a woman.  I never was one.  I just looked like one – an impostor, a fake, a doppelganger.  My friends believed that I was a woman, so when I told them that I really wasn’t one, they thought I was denying my womanhood and implying that manhood was much better.  They thought I was buying into the patriarchy and believed that to be a woman was one of the worst things you could be.  This is very far from the actual truth of why I transitioned and their assumption that my motivation was flawed led to all sorts of recriminations.  I transitioned because my mind says male and my body said female.  I wanted them to match and for that I have been called a traitor, an impostor, a liar, a chauvinist pig, a tool of the patriarchy, etc.  It took me a long time to come to terms with the accusations I faced from my feminist friends.  A part of me agreed with them and felt extreme guilt that my decision to transition could make me just as bad as the boys who harassed my friends as a child.  I didn’t want to be like them.  I didn’t want to be that guy who thinks they are better than women solely because they’ve been trained to think that way.  I was also aware that gaining male privilege can make trans men become sexist jerks.  I vowed to not become that kind of man.

I’ve been living my life as I’d always wished for 8 years now.  I am an effeminate gay trans men who loves the company of women.  It took me a long time, but I have finally come to terms with the limitations of feminism and understand that my former friends did the best they could do with the information they had, as did I.  Neither side won or lost.  I still fight against sexism and believe that women need their spaces away from men.  I’m somewhat of an outsider now, but I like to look in to see how strong and powerful women can be and just happy that slowly things are getting better.  I know that I can’t give them the male privilege that I’ve gained, but I can still watch out for their safety.  I can still stand up for them when they need it.  I can still be their friend and listen when they need an ear.  I still care and no matter how hard they push me away, I will always be there.

In closing, If you’re a trans man reading this, please take this to heart.  Let your former life guide you, but know that you are not betraying anyone by transitioning and living your life to the fullest.  By the power vested in me you are now absolved of all guilt you are feeling.  Just one thing before you to take the plunge — don’t forget about the sisters you left behind.

Kian has been living as a gay transman for most of his 20s.  Nerdy, quirky and fey, he often spends his time thinking and writing about gay and trans politics.  He loves to learn and cook and looks for hairy men who do the same.

Requisite disclaimer: All opinions expressed in guest posts are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of NotAiden.

As most people here know, I’m about 90-99% stealth.  That is, there are only a handful of people in my metro area who both know who I am offline and that I’m trans.  About half are people I’ve slept with, maybe a third are doctors or other medical personnel, and the rest are friends or random people who needed to know (for instance, the financial aid counselor at my university).  Obviously this means I use only the men’s restrooms, locker rooms, etc.

There are just a couple of problems.  First off, I come from a family where even the non-trans men get called “ma’am” until about 30.  When I started T I figured I’d have to wait until at least 40 to pass easily and I’m fine with that, one of the advantages to coming from a gender-ambiguous family is that I know just how common feminine looking guys are.  The bigger issue is that the, uh, monthly horror didn’t stop until about a month ago (and I’m still not 100% sure).  So what do you do when you want/need to use the men’s room, but have to deal with female cycles?

1. Tampons are your friend.  I had intense dysphoria until the T started kicking in so I couldn’t use them until a year or so ago, but if you can stomach the idea I highly suggest it.  They’re easier to get rid of than most alternatives.
2. Also useful, but something I could never in a million years use: divacups/other reusable tampon-like things.  They freak me the fuck out (I’m afraid of it getting stuck, sue me), but I know guys who swear by them.  If you’re comfortable, go for it.  I would’ve if I ever worked up the balls.
3. See if you can find a single stall.  I know, basic Trans 101, but I tend to forget things like this when I’m nervous so I thought I’d remind everyone.
4. Don’t panic.  For god’s sake, don’t creep into the bathroom like you’re trying to take naughty pictures or something.  Nothing makes a person stand out more than trying not to stand out.  Unless you’re in a gay setting, the guys aren’t looking at you.  It’s a thing, no one wants to be the one caught checking out another dude.  Just pretend it’s the ladies’ room and walk in as if you’ve been doing it your entire life.  Worst that happens is some guy tries to be nice and point you in the direction of the “right” bathroom (at which point I suggest acting really offended or embarrassed — embarrassed tends to work better if you often get called “son” and want to go for the pretty-boy-adolescent thing).
5. The vast majority of guys will never notice the sound of you unwrapping whatever protective measures you decide to use.  However, if you’re concerned (I still am sometimes) you can learn to unwrap things in your pocket with a bit of practice.  Backings get a bit of pocket lint on them, but they stay well enough.
6. If you have to toss something in the trash, carry a bag with you.  Wrap item in toilet paper, put in bag, and dump on the way out.
7. Packers can be placed in front of maxi-pads if you’re so inclined.  The sticky backing actually really helps them stay in place.
8. Yes, pads do work with most men’s underwear.  I’ve heard boxers are a problem and I can guess why, but I don’t wear them so I’ve never tested it out.
9. Find a coping mechanism.  For me that week was always the most dysphoric time.  Until recently I was barely functional, it was that bad.  If you have the same issue, try to find something that makes you feel more manly.  For me it was drag performance, being around a bunch of guys in gowns made me feel like I fit in.
10. By the same token, avoid your triggers.  I absolutely refused to watch any porn during that time, it just reminded me of what I don’t have.

So now you know, it is possible to deal with the more annoying aspects of having a uterus while not giving up your life as a guy.  It takes some practice and a certain amount of confidence, but it’s possible.

Note: If you’re still cycling after a year or so (some would say six months) you should talk to your doctor.  Same goes for breakthrough bleeding after not cycling for several months.  It’s not always a problem (in my case it was just a reproductive system that refused to die), but with this sort of thing it’s better to be sure.

Often when trans people look for advice on dealing with internalized transphobia, we find a definition and are told to find a therapist.  Not finding this helpful for most trans people, I would like to offer an alternative.  Rather than focus on the definition of transphobia, I would like to concentrate on the individual beliefs, or myths, that comprise transphobia, particularly for gay FTMs.  Myths shape our thought processes because they are usually firmly held,  taught to us at a young age and are repeatedly reinforced by the culture we live in.   While you may have come to terms with being trans and have started transitioning, you may still have these myths in place that serve to diminish your self-esteem and self-worth.

The following is a cognitive-based approach that I learned in Dialectical Behavioral Therapy and has proven useful for me in combating inner myths that mirrored transphobic cultural ideas.  Myths are not universal.  Some of the myths that resonate with me will resonate strongly with you, some will not at all.  Disregard the ones that don’t apply to you and address the ones that strike a chord, as these myths are the probably the root of your self-hate.  My list of myths about being an effeminate gay trans man is very personal, as these are the ideas that shaped how I saw and judged myself during the first few years of transition.   I’m sure that you can think of myths that didn’t occur to me or don’t apply to me, so I encourage you to do this in addition to the following exercise.

The next step involves rewriting your personal myths so that you can start to pick them apart and eventually make your personal belief system more positive.  When you rewrite a myth, it can be anything from subtle change of one word to a complete reorganization of the idea.  A rewrite should challenge the original myth and be personal.  I cannot rewrite myths for you, although I will provide examples of rewrites that resonate with me.   Why?  This is about you and how you see yourself.  Only you can change this and hopefully you can start here.

Myth #1
My lack of a penis means I’m not really a man.

My rewrites:
My lack of a penis means that I’m not a typical man.
My lack of a penis has no bearing on my manhood.
My lack of a penis is not my fault.

Myth #2:
I’m only pretending to be a boy.

My rewrites:
I’m not pretending to be anything.
I’m being true to myself.

Myth #3
I’m not a real FTM transsexual because I’m too feminine.

My rewrites:
FTM transsexuals come in many varieties and I happen to come in the fey, gay and fabulous variety.
My inner sense of being male has no relation to my feminine gender expression.

Myth #4
My attraction to men means I’m not a real FTM.

My rewrites:
My attraction to men has nothing to do my gender.
FTMs can be attracted to anyone.

I encourage you to start with these three and see if you can come up with rewrites that resonate with you.  Below you will find more myths that I compiled in a list for you to start tackling.  Remember these are personal myths, so there there are no right or wrong ways to rewrite a myth.

•    I’m not a real gay man because I was born female.
•    I’m just really confused and other people probably know better.
•    I must not be a real FTM because I used to wear dresses.
•    I like to have sex with my front hole so I must not be a real FTM.
•    I’m a freak and don’t deserved to be loved.
•    If I could just try harder I would be happier with my assigned sex.
•    I must be defective.
•    I’m too pretty to be an FTM.
•    I’m a fag hag, not a fag.
•    When people call me “she” it means they know the real truth.
•    Being trans is a choice and my decision to take hormones and have surgery means I’m weak.
•    I’m reinforcing the gender binary by transitioning.
•    Transitioning is radical and must be done only as a last resort.
•    No one will want to date me.
•    I’m betraying women by transitioning.
•    I’m disgusting.
•    I’m buying into the patriarchy by transitioning.
•    I’m short and nobody likes short men.
•    I have to butch up in order to be a proper FTM.
•    I’ll never truly know what it’s like to be a man.
•    I’m FTM so I must like girls.
•    I’m not a real FTM transsexual if I don’t get bottom surgery.
•    My personality will change on hormones and I will become a different person.
•    All of my problems stem from my transsexuality.
•    I will never be happy.
•    I will always be considered a freak.
•    I’m never mistaken for a boy, so I must not be a real transsexual.
•    To be a successful FTM transsexual, I must pass at all times.

Now the rest is up to you.  Rewrite as many or as few as you need to.

Please note: I am not a psychologist, a therapist or a mental health counselor.  My only qualifications include 10 years of therapy, 6 years of transition, an obsession with psychology and a sincere desire to help my fellow trans sisters and brothers come to terms with their genders.  If this is not helpful, please let me know.  If it is very helpful, please let me know.  I am open to all suggestions, comments and concerns, as this is the first time I have attempted this.

Kian has been living as a gay transman for most of his 20s.  Nerdy, quirky and fey, he often spends his time thinking and writing about gay and trans politics.  He loves to learn and cook and looks for hairy men who do the same.

I’ve been seeing this over and over in certain segments of the trans population and it’s starting to get on my damned nerves.  Transpeople — 100% binary identified transpeople — claiming that gender is entirely a social construct.

This is a problem.  Why?  Because if gender were entirely socialised I wouldn’t exist.  Nor would thousands of other binary identified transsexuals.  If gender were solely an issue of socialisation it would be possible to train me to be a nice little girl.  My parents tried that.  It failed.  Pretty miserably.

I don’t know if transpeople realise what they’re saying when they spout this stuff or if they’re getting gender identity confused with gender roles.  Either way, something needs to be done.  Society has tried claiming that all gender is devised by social rules and restrictions before, it was called the 1970s.  This was the peak of egalitarian feminism, a time when women were insisting that the only differences between them and men could be traced back to early childhood rearing.  If you raised your daughters to like trucks and swords instead of dolls and dresses they’d turn out just like any little boy.  If you raised all of your children to like trucks and dolls equally they’d never prefer one over the other.

They were wrong.  For the first proposal we have David Reimer.  A young boy whose penis was cut off in a botched circumcision when he was an infant.  His parents were told to raise him as a girl, that way he’d be able to have surgery and hormones as he got older and no one would be the wiser.  Even better, he had a twin brother which meant they could be a perfect test case for the nurture over nature theory.  Unfortunately for all involved, David had no desire to be a girl.  As early as age three he was exhibiting frustration very similar to what transpeople go through.  Ultimately David was told about his medical history and made the decision to live as his birth sex.

For the second idea there are so many individuals that I couldn’t begin to list them all.  Most children I grew up with were given the option to play with any toys they wanted.  Girl, boy, it didn’t matter.  I knew boys who played with dolls and girls who played with trucks.  There was no value placed on either, but each and every child still had a preference.  The majority of boys preferred trucks and the majority of girls preferred dolls.  There were exceptions and a good number of us would pick Lego over anything else, but the general rule remained.  As far as I know, I’m the only transperson from the people I grew up with — and I was a doll kid.

So, now that we’ve established that no amount of socialising is going to change a person’s gender, let’s look at where people might be getting things confused.

One explanation I hear quite often is that transpeople only exist within the framework of a gendered society.  If we were to remove all gender everyone would be at a happy medium.  I’d be willing to accept this idea if I didn’t know people who were raised in almost entirely gender neutral environments.  My elementary school, for example, didn’t have “girl” or “boy” bathrooms.  We had one single stall per classroom (two per class in kindergarten and first grades) that anyone could use.  Instead of lining up by girls and boys we’d line up by dark shoes and light shoes.  My family was the only one in the neighbourhood that cared remotely about gender.  It wasn’t until middle school that anything became separated, and even then it was only locker and bathrooms.  Yet everyone I know from that time is binary identified.

My theory is that people are confusing gender identity with gender roles.  Gender identity is an innate characteristic that cannot be changed.  It’s a far broader spectrum than Western society would have you believe, but in most people it’s pretty stable.  Gender roles, on the other hand, are how society expects people of a particular gender to behave.

For example, I am a guy.  As a guy I am expected to have “masculine” traits.  These traits are almost overwhelmingly aggressive and cold.  “Men hunt, women cook.”  “Men fight, women compromise.”  “Men bully, women nurture.”  “Men are good at maths, women are good at writing.”  I’m sure we’ve all heard these and many more.  The problem is, they’re neither true nor static.  As society evolves so do gender roles.  Fifty years ago a woman even running for President would have been unheard of.  It simply wasn’t the sort of thing women did, politics was a man’s world.  Yet today there are women leading countries around the world and no one bats an eye.

By the same token, gender roles change as you travel.  In Japan sweet foods are considered “girly”, men aren’t expected to like them.  In the US men are allowed all the sweets they want — though chocolate is generally seen as something women like more.  In my Mexican-American family dancing was seen as something all people should do, even my macho, tattoo-covered, cholo uncles.  If you couldn’t dance you were going to lose your wife to someone who could.  This meant that at least twice a year my uncles would trade in their baggy jeans and A-frame shirts for the tight, sparkly outfits most people associate with mariachi bands and escort their wives to a night of folklorico dancing.  It wasn’t considered gay or effeminate, it was part of being a “real” man.

Now, if we abolished all gender roles would there still be transpeople?  Probably.  At the very least, there’d still be transsexuals.  Why?  Because while being seen as a man is important to me, having a penis is pretty frickin’ important too.  In fact, it’s more important to me than being seen as a man.  If I had to pick between people constantly thinking I’m a woman, but having a penis and being seen as a man, but not having a penis I’d go with the penis every time.  For one thing, it’s hard for people to argue if you whip it out.  For another, it’d make me immensely more comfortable with my body.

Which is really what it all comes down to.  The difference between transitioning due to a sense of being a man and transitioning due to a desire for a male body.  It’s possible to want both (I do), but some people fall very much on one side or the other.  Those who are fine with their bodies probably would do well in a completely genderless/gender-role-less world.  Those who aren’t would still require some form of medical intervention.

I know, sometimes that seems impossible.  When you first come out it’s like you figured out this secret society full of cool new people and ideas.  It can be overwhelming, especially if you also jump into physical transition.

You don’t want to make your entire life about being trans, though.  It’s a damned good way to make sure you feel like crap after you’ve done everything you want to do.  It’s also a good way to start yourself off on a bitter and lonely life.  When the only aspect of yourself you focus on is being trans the world seems more hostile than it truly is.  Let’s be honest, life’s not easy for a boy named Sue.  Life’s really not easy when Sue can’t just whip out his penis to answer any questions.  If you allow yourself to only focus on the transphobic aspects of society you’ll miss all of the good things we’ve done.

Don’t forget that there’s more to you than being trans.  I’m sure you’re an amazing person with unique gifts to offer the world.  Everyone has something that makes them special, even if it’s as mundane as being able to recite the entire Twilight series from memory.  Go do things that made you happy before you came out.  Nurture those things, don’t push them aside just because you’re excited about being trans.  You’ll regret it once you’re no longer focused on transition and have to catch up on web design or piano or WoW.

Also remember your pre-transition friends.  The ONLY reason to ignore them is if they refuse to accept who you are — and even then I’d give them some time to adjust (took my oldest friend two years to come around).  Friends who’ve known you a while have a different perspective than new friends.  They know about the time you accidentally pushed the principal in the pool and how you’re terrified of bees because you stepped on one when you were five.  Old friends also know the stories from pre-transition, stories you may not always be able to tell new friends if you don’t want to come out.

I don’t want anyone to think they shouldn’t have trans* friends.  Without my trans* friends I’d have never made it through the first year.  Even now, I like having trans* friends so I can vent about things like still being uncomfortable in locker rooms and not knowing whether or not to disclose to someone.  There are certain things that only another transperson can understand.  Just make sure you’re not neglecting your non-trans friends in the process.  Most of the time they want you to be happy, even if they don’t quite understand why you need to transition.

Go to trans events, have trans friends, explore this new aspect of your life.  It is important — certainly for the first year or so — and you’ll end up learning some pretty cool things about yourself.  As long as you remember to set aside some time for the aspects of yourself that aren’t trans-related you’ll be fine.  Give yourself the opportunity to be a whole person instead of a transperson.  You’ll have more to look forward to once you’ve gotten the physical stuff out of the way.