GeboGirl

Positively Trans

2011-01-14T12:52:00.010-06:00

Anyone who's brought up the movie Transamerica knows I can get pretty passionate about bad portrayals of trans women. But I realized I've never talked about the good trans movies. I've never mentioned the growing number of enjoyable, entertaining and positive portrayals of transgender people. Now granted, most of them are foreign so you'll have to read some subtitles. If that's not your cup of tea, there's still some really good movies out there from Britain and The States in English. So today, rather than criticize, I want to congratulate the following films for paving the way to a better future. Not just for transsexuals, but anyone who doesn't fit perfectly into the boxes marked “male” and “female”.

20 Centimeters – A campy Spanish musical about a narcoleptic trans woman. While living with a dwarf who dreams of playing the bass violin, Marieta works the streets in order to pay for her surgery. The only problem is she has a bad habit of falling asleep on the job. Every time she does, she dreams fabulous show-stopping performances about the life of a transsexual girl looking for love. Not exactly award-winning, but it's fun and also offers some unique perspectives on the whole “surgery” issue.

Beautiful Boxer – The true story of a Thai kickboxer, Piranaya Charoemphol, who steps into the ring to pay for her transition and help her family. It follows her life story from childhood, to her training to the first time she wears make-up in the ring. Although her actions were believed to be nothing but a publicity stunt, she provides a public voice to the ignored. Excellent action scenes and wonderful acting while breaking away from the traditional “transsexual narrative” of most movies.

Different for Girls – A British love story about a trans woman and her former school mate. When the two run into each other after many years, Paul discovers through persistence that Kim is the high school chum he lost ouch with, Kyle. Paul struggles to understand her transsexuality as well as his attraction to her. Through many embarrassments, including being arrested, the two rekindle their old relationship and take it to the next level. A very cute and funny romantic comedy without the cheesiness. Also unique for having a post-op, post-transition woman from the beginning.

Ma Vie En Rose – A Belgian movie about an 8-year-old trans girl named Ludovic. When her family moves to a new town she introduces herself in a dress and make-up. The tension only grows as she develops a crush on the boy next door, tries to explain to her therapist she's a “boy-girl” because God threw one of her “X's” in the trash and steals the lead role in her school play. But ultimately, her family grows to understand her. An adorable movie that accurately portrays life as a trans child, one of my favorites.

She's a Boy I Knew – A documentary about a trans woman, by a trans woman. Gwen Haworth interviews the closest people in her life, including her ex-wife, best friend, siblings and parents about what they went through during her transition. Because it's made by the woman they're all talking about, you see all sides of the story in a unique and interesting way. It's funny, touching and informative without being preachy. Also fairly unique for showing a trans lesbian who's not particularly feminine.

Soldier's Girl – The true story of a trans woman and a soldier. Calpernia meets Barry while working the drag show she stars in. Although she's sure he'll “freak and run” like all the others, he continues to visit her from the nearby army base and they begin to fall in love. The only problem is his fellow soldiers start to raise eyebrows and ask questions. Their story ends tragically due to hate and ignorance. A beautiful story of love cut short in the face of bigotry.

Transgeneration – A documentary mini-series that follows 4 students as they transition while attending college. There's two trans men and two trans women and each show aspects of beginning and established transition for both genders. Some are charming, some are annoying, but all are shown throughout their school year as they grow and develop. A well-rounded series that shows nearly all aspects of transition for trans men and women.

Our Word

2010-11-30T18:38:00.003-06:00

I can't believe that I even have to say this, but given the recent events in the media let me say loud and clear, "Tranny is not an acceptable word!" It isn't cute, it isn't clever, it isn't ironic, it is nothing but hurtful. A word that has been used to reduce trans people to something less than human. It's right up there with "shemale" and "he-she". This should not be surprising to anyone who knows a transsexual or transgender person. And yet, in the last month I've heard several LGB community members use it. Not just use it, but try to defend others using it and even claim the word is positive.

First it started with Jersey Shore, when one of the cast claimed a girl he'd met a club earlier that night was "a tranny". It was bad enough to hear it once, but the cast continued to harrass the cast member about "hitting on a tranny" and "almost fucking a tranny", etc. Then it got even worse when they repeated the entire thing at the recap show. Of course, nobody pretends that Jersey Shore is progressive. I know that, and so does everyone else. But the fact that MTV kept showing the clip and promoting how "hilarious" the whole thing was is actually more harmful.

And then, Glee, which is a wonderful gay-positive show that I adore, did a Rocky Horror tribute. Rocky Horror Picture Show was one of my favorite movies growing up. I first watched it with my grandmother and the message "Don't dream it, be it," has obviously stuck with me. So I could not wait to see Glee's take on it. Shortly before it premiered I learned that the line "I'm just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania," would be changed to "Sensational, Transylvania." That's kind of strange, I thought. Why would they keep transvestite, which is mostly considered an outdated term for crossdresser, but change transsexual? I worried about social erasure, but reassured myself that a show like Glee wouldn't do anything negative to the transgender community.

And then they threw out the tranny word.

Specifically, one of the performers says his parents don't want him "dressed up like a tranny". Now, Glee has used derogatory remarks before, but they always address it sooner or later. I waited for someone to step in and say, "Dude, not cool." But it never happened. I had to wait for GLAAD to step in and even mention it. And they recognized how much Glee has done for the cause and merely mentioned that it was not an appropriate term to use in the future. Which I felt was an appropriate response.

But then LGB people clashed back. They accused GLAAD of overstepping their boundaries. They claimed Tranny was an acceptable word using the old, "I have all kinds of tranny friends and they don't mind" defense. The real annoyance here isn't the defense of the word tranny. Look, even I use the word around other trans people. But that's the thing, it's our word. It's a word we've taken back from the haters and made our own. There are so few things in this world that belong exclusively to trans folk. Even cissexuals receive hormon therapy, vaginoplasties and phalloplasties. We don't really ask for much, just the right to live a life as fulfilling as any cissexual. The right to not have our gender, sexuality or identity called into question. You know, the little things. Things that might be taken for granted by others. But I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around and listen to people who are supposedly my allies trumpet a deragatory word as positive. You can't take it back. And I know that the LGB people don't like being excluded from anything in the greater community, but they've excluded us too many times to count. I don't care if you're gay, straight, cissexual, dating a trans person or whatever. You don't get to use tranny. Sorry. Trans people only.

Bad Questions

2010-11-16T19:33:00.003-06:00

As you may or may not know, I'm going crazy this week trying to get all my homework done as well as set up everything for Transgender Week here on campus. I've just spent the last 4 hours working on definitions, history and explanations of transgender people. I think this last piece I've put together is both informative and kind of funny. It's also been requested by some of the youth I volunteer with at YFT that I post snappy answers to stupid questions. This should kill two birds with one stone. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

I know this is a bad question, but…
If you know it’s offensive or inappropriate to ask a certain question, then don’t ask it! Imagine it this way, would you ask the same question of your mother or father? If not, then it’s probably inappropriate.

What made you transgender?
What made you cisgender? No one really knows how gender identity is formed but it’s believed to be a combination of nature and nurture. A person can’t be “tricked” or “confused” into being transgender through therapy, peer pressure, upbringing or anything else. Gender identity is innate and unchangeable.

What is your “real” name?
If a transgender person has changed their name, do not ask about their birth name. This is disrespectful and implies they are being dishonest by presenting their preferred and/or legal name.

Can I see a “before” picture?
Would you want to show someone a picture of you at your fattest, your least attractive, your most depressed? This is how many transgender people feel about older pictures. By asking to see a picture of a transgender person before they came out or transitioned, you’re implying their gender presentation now is less genuine than their gender presentation before.

Have you had “The Surgery”?
Asking anyone about their genitals is completely rude and offensive. While many transgender people do receive sex-reassignment surgery, this is not true for all. A person’s “surgery status” does not validate their gender identity and is nobody’s business.

How do you really know you’re transgender?
How do you really know what your gender is? Is it only because someone told you from birth or is it an innate sense of belonging? If you magically woke up with different genitals would you blindly change gender or try to correct your body? The same is true for transgender people.

How do you have sex?
This is not an appropriate question to ask a cisgender person, so it is not appropriate to ask a transgender person either. Regardless of what you may or may not know about their genital status, unless you’re in a sexual relationship with that person, it’s none of your business.

Aren’t you really just gay?
Sexual orientation and gender expression are not linked together. If a transgender person identifies as a woman and dates men, she dates heterosexual men. If a transgender person identifies as a man and dates men, he dates homosexual men. Ignore the fact that this person is transgender and you can answer your own question.

Are you a man or a woman?
If a transgender person has shared their personal history with you, you should already know how they identify. If you’re still not sure, use their gender expression and other cues. As a last resort, politely ask what gender pronoun they would prefer. Anything else, such as birth sex, is none of your business.

I really do think of you as a man/woman.
Is this something you would say to your cisgender friends? Of course not! While you may think you’re being encouraging, you’re actually “othering” the transgender person and saying their gender expression is less genuine.

You pass so well, you look just like a real man/woman!
Many transgender people consider “passing” to be offensive because it implies their gender expression is somehow deceitful. The reason why they “look like” their gender is because they are that gender. While you may think you’re being supportive you’re actually claiming their gender expression is “almost” as good as a cisgender person’s.

Is (insert secondary-sex characteristic here) real?
Asking a trans woman if her breasts are real is extremely offensive. Asking a trans man if his goatee is real is also extremely offensive. Would you be asking this question if you didn’t know they were transgender? Of course not! So don’t ask.

I should’ve known, I noticed (insert body flaw here)!
Listing off a transgender person’s body characteristics or flaws after they share their history with you is extremely hurtful. Everyone is self-conscious of their body to some degree and everyone has characteristics of both genders they may be uncomfortable about. Be respectful and think before you speak.

I’ve seen (insert movie or TV show here), so I know all about you.
You wouldn’t claim to know all about being a Native American after seeing Pocahontas, so don’t do the same to transgender people. While there are some respectful and informative shows out there, many are offensive and contain stereotypes or myths. Watching TV is no substitute for actual experience.

My (insert acquaintance here) is gay, so I totally understand.
Being gay and being transgender are completely different things. Being gay has to do with a person’s sexual orientation. Being transgender has to do with a person’s gender identity. Transgender people can be any sexual orientation just like cisgender people.

Some final thoughts:
Being friends with a transgender person is no different than being friends with a cisgender person. If you’re curious about a particular aspect of transition or transgender people, try to do some research on your own rather than assuming a transgender person has all the answers. Above all, be respectful, think before you speak and treat them the same way you would want to be treated.

What's the Verdict?

2010-11-10T19:32:00.001-06:00

What the hell, these are fun from time to time. Call it a guilty pleasure.

RULE 1. You can only say Guilty or Innocent.

RULE 2. You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!

1. Asked someone to marry you?

innocent

2. Kissed one of your Facebook friends?

guilty

3. Danced on a table in a bar?

innocent

4. Ever told a lie?

guilty

5. Had feelings for someone whom you can't have back?

guilty

6. Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

guilty

7. Kissed a picture?

innocent

8. Slept in until 5 PM?

innocent

9. Fallen asleep at work/school?

innocent

10. Held a snake?

guilty

11. Been suspended from school?

innocent

12. Worked at a fast food chain/restaurant?

innocent

13. Stolen something?

guilty

14. Been fired from a job?

guilty

15. Done something you regret?

guilty

16. Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose?

innocent

17. Caught a snowflake on your tongue?

guilty

18. Kissed in the rain?

guilty

19. Sat on a roof top?

guilty

20. Kissed someone you shouldn't?

guilty

21. Sang in the shower?

guilty

22. Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?

guilty

23. Shaved your head?

innocent

24. Slept naked?

guilty

25. Had a boxing membership?

guilty

26. Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

guilty

27. Been in a band?

guilty

28. Shot a gun?

guilty

29. Donated Blood?

guilty

30. Eaten alligator meat?

guilty

31. Eaten cheesecake?

guilty

32. Still love someone you shouldn't?

innocent

33. Have/had a tattoo?

innocent

34. Liked someone, but will never tell who?

innocent

35. Been too honest?

guilty

36. Ruined a surprise?

guilty

37. Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you can't walk afterwards?

guilty

38. Erased someone in your friends list?

guilty

39. Dressed in a woman's clothes (if your a guy) or man's clothes (if your a girl)?

guilty (ha)

40. Joined a pageant?

innocent

41. Been told that you're handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said?

guilty

42. Still have communication w/ your ex?

guilty

43. Cheated on someone?

innocent.

44. Get totally drunk one night and you have an important exam tomorrow morning?

innocent

45. A total stranger treat you by paying your fare?

innocent

46. Get totally angry that you cried so hard?

guilty

47. Tried to stay away from someone for their own good?

guilty

48. Thought about suicide?

guilty

49. Thought about murder?

innocent

50. How about Mass Murder?

innocent

51. Rode in a stranger's vehicle?

guilty

52. Stalked someone?

innocent

53. Had a girlfriend/boyfriend

guilty

Thanks

2010-11-09T16:08:00.004-06:00

November is a busy month for me. It's a time I attempt to write a novel for NaNoWriMo (though I'm not really succeeding this time around). It's a time to give thanks with my family, both the one I was born with and the one I've created. It's also a time to pay respect to my brothers and sisters who have died at the hands of another. For the past couple years I've felt a powerful connection between the Transgender Day of Remembrance and Thanksgiving.

There are nearly 30 people listed this year. 30 people who have been killed for expressing their gender in a hostile world. 30 may seem like a small number compared to the billions who walk the earth. But when I think about the 30 closest people in my life and how I wouldn't want to lose any of them, I remember that each of these people had others who loved them. They were all sons and daughters, brother and sisters, friends and lovers for at least 30 other people each. That's at least 900 people forever affected by hate and ignorance. Someone saw these people and decided they were less than human, unworthy to draw breath and live their lives, share their stories, give their love to the world.

I can't imagine what it must be like for your final moments on this earth to be filled, not with the love that every human being deserves, but with hate and fear. To be shot, beaten, smothered, stabbed and throttled to death, alone and frightened. What are their final thoughts? Are they thoughts of anger at having their life struck down too soon? Are they thoughts of sadness from being destroyed by someone who said they loved them? Are they thoughts of self-hatred, believing they deserved to be treated this way? Are they thoughts of acceptance, knowing they lived life on their own terms? Unfortunately we'll never know because someone didn't want to listen. Someone was too afraid of their courage, their commitment to life, their conviction to be who they are, so they cut them down. These cowards couldn't handle the strength of my brothers and sisters.

It's no coincidence that the Day of Remembrance is less than a week before Thanksgiving. In fact, it's something I'm thankful for. It puts my life in perspective. It forces me to ask, "Have I done enough with my life? Have I given enough love? Have I made the world a safer place for the next generation? If I were murdered, would I be satisfied with what I've accomplished?" And my answer is always mixed. Yes, I'm proud of what I've done so far, but I'm nowhere close to being finished. And I suspect I never will be. I don't want to change the world, but I have a driving need to improve it. And so I'm thankful for every extra year I get.

I give thanks for my family for making me into the strong woman I am and supporting me in everything I do. I give thanks for my boyfriend for loving me for who I am, not in spite of it. I give thanks for my friends for giving me their strength when I need them and their trust when they need me. I give thanks for my community for offering services I need and giving me a chance to spread my love. I give thanks for the opportunities I have because I know not everyone does. I give thanks for being clean of drugs all year and breaking free of the addiction and self-abuse. And although my relationship with my body and birth status is a complicated one, I give thanks for being born transsexual. Because the experience has shaped who I am and what I want to do with my life. I give thanks for each day I live and each breath I take because I know life is short. For some of us, too short.

Dark Times

2010-10-19T18:48:00.003-05:00

A lot has happened over the last month. 9 students have committed suicide as a result of homophobic bullying. A fellow trans sister was strangled in her own apartment and later ridiculed by the press and police. In my own city, Dallas ISD barred a trans girl from running for homecoming queen. This has been a dark, depressing time in the LGBTQA world.

But our community continues to bounce back. In response to the suicides we have a remembrance day tomorrow (wear purple), and have seen a resurgence in anti-discrimination laws. The Trevor Project and "It Gets Better" videos have reached out to other queer youth who may have considered becoming victim number 10. Despite the initial offensive and ungendering comments made by the Philadelphia Police and Daily News, GLAAD, API and others sprung into action, correcting mistakes and educating the public. While Andy Moreno will not get to wear the homecoming crown, the fact that a student who transitioned a year ago gained more votes than two out of the three final contestants combined gives me great hope.

I owe a lot to this community. I met my boyfriend through it. I gained medical care and therapy through it. I made many trusting and loving friendships because of it. But most importantly, I gained a voice and sense of acheivement by fighting for it. This community is my family and my home, and you better not mess with the ones I love! I've dedicated my life to helping the next generation live a life even better than mine. For every homophobic and transphobic comment made, I will offer love and respect. For every death caused by hate, I will share my life with another. For every slight against my brothers and sisters, I will fight back with love. Together we can make it through even the darkest times. It will get better because we will make it better.

If You Really Knew Me...

2010-09-22T21:01:00.004-05:00

One of my kids over at Youth First posted this and I thought it was a cool exercise to try. We've had a sit-down version of "If you really knew me..." at Big Group there and it went over pretty well. Of course, I'm not sure what more I can reveal on this blog, but I'll do my best. This isn't a pity party or anything, it's just a chance to share things I don't often advertise.

1. If you really knew me, you would know that I used to be a pot head.

2. If you really knew me, you would know that I often blame myself for everything.

3. If you really knew me, you would know that I tend to over-analyze things.

4. If you really knew me, you would know that I am an atheist.

5. If you really knew me, you would know that I am transsexual.

6. If you really knew me, you would know that I once despised myself for being a girl.

7. If you really knew me, you would know that I am a hardcore feminist.

8. If you really knew me, you would know that I have played video games since I was 4.

9. If you really knew me, you would know that I used to be bulimic.

10. If you really knew me, you would know that I have a paranoid schizophrenic father.

11. If you really knew me, you would know that I never saw a boy's bathroom until I was in day care.

12. If you really knew me, you would know that I still let petty things get to me sometimes.

13. If you really knew me, you would know that I have trained in Karate and Boxing. I'm not a violent person, but I can and will defend myself.

14. If you really knew me, you would know that I was raped by 5 boys in middle school.

15. If you really knew me, you would know that I feel overwhelmed sometimes, even while I keep everyone else calm.

16. If you really knew me, you would know that I get depressed about my lack of surgery sometimes and how impossibly far in the future it seems.

17. If you really knew me, you would know that I have an incredibly high sex drive.

18. If you really knew me, you would know that I am loyal to a fault, even when I shouldn't be.

19. If you really knew me, you would know that I dream in black and white, and rarely from my own point-of-view.

20. If you really knew me, you would know that I am a total fangirl and have loved Batman and the X-Men since I was 5.

21. If you really knew me, you would know that I love few things more than talking in medium-sized groups.

22. If you really knew me, you woulds know that I feel responsible for everyone in my life, even when I shouldn't.

23. If you really knew me, you would know that I got my first vibrator when I was 13.

24. If you really knew me you would know that I am a bleeding-heart, pinko-commie liberal.

25. If you really knew me, you would know that I am a workaholic and get depressed if I'm not working.

26. If you really knew me, you would know that I doubt my ability to do anything fairly often.

27. If you really knew me, you would know that I have taught myself to be an optimist even though I'm naturally a pessimist.

28. If you really knew me, you would know that I consider myself a Taoist, which is a philosophy, not a religion.

29. If you really knew me, you would know that I sometimes worry my boyfriend's family doesn't like me.

30. If you really knew me, you would know that I often doubt my ability to accomplish anything worthwhile.

31. If you really knew me, you would know that I have a hard time feeling like an adequate mentor, I keep expecting someone to come in and tell me I've been dismissed.

32. If you really knew me, you would know that I never dreamed of my future wedding until I met Chris.

33. If you really knew me, you would know that I still feel an intense urge to experience pregnancy and birth from time to time.

34. If you really knew me, you would know that I am extremely self-conscious about the hair on my face and my lack of laser removal.

35. If you really knew me, you would know that I convinced myself I was an evil pervert doomed for hell when I was a Christian. But I still believed God loved me.

36. If you really knew me, you would know that I sometimes miss the community a church can provide, even though I'm an atheist.

37. If you really knew me, you would know that I love modern musicals like Rent, Avenue Q and Wicked.

38. If you really knew me, you would know that I used to be heavily involved in Theatre, and sometimes I still miss it.

39. If you really knew me, you would know that I want to be a therapist for LGBT youth when I grow up, whenever that might be.

40. If you really knew me, you would know that I have played Dungeons & Dragons off and on for years. Hell, I'm a Dungeon Master.

41. If you really knew me, you would know that I used to be claustrophobic.

42. If you really knew me, you would know that I generally hate chick flicks and romantic comedies. The only love stories I enjoy are the dark, twisted, weird ones.

43. If you really knew me, you would know that I love to read books and dream of having a library in my house someday.

44. If you really knew me, you would know that I wanted to be an English teacher until I started to critique students' writing.

45. If you really knew me, you would know that I hate Twilight.

46. If you really knew me, you would know that I am kind of a tomboy, despite my feminine manner.

47. If you really knew me, you would know that I dream of a day when kids can express who they are without prejudice. Every step I take to make that possible makes me feel better about my own childhood.

48. If you really knew me, you would know that I can be reduced to tears by math sometimes.

49. If you really knew me, you would know that I love my cat, Baby, and sometimes start to cry when I think about the fact that he's old and will die some day.

50. If you really knew me, you would know that despite being an atheist, I do believe: in love, the good of humanity, the natural order of the universe and the ability to adapt and evolve beyond our limits.

51. If you really knew me, you would know that I still feel the urge to smoke pot sometimes. However, I never feel the urge to smoke cigarettes again.

52. If you really knew me, you would know that I lost 4 of my best friends to weed. Even though leaving them was the right thing to do, I still feel terrible about it.

53. If you really knew me, you would know that I worked at a comic shop for 4 years and even transitioned while I was there.

54. If you really knew me, you would know that I really do love helping customers, cheesy as that sounds.

55. If you really knew me, you would know that I wish I was more crafty and artistic than I really am.

56. If you really knew me, you would know that the majority of my friends are gay or transgender.

57. If you really knew me, you would know that I distanced myself from the LGBT community until last year because I didn't want people confusing me for being gay or a cross-dresser or whatever.

58. If you really knew me, you would know that I love my hair, but don't know how to do anything with it.

59. If you really knew me, you would know that I listen to National Public Radio every day.

60. If you really knew me, you would know that I am slowly becoming a Trekkie thanks to my boyfriend.

61. If you really knew me, you would know that I dream of traveling across the country on a road trip someday.

62. If you really knew me, you would know that I love to cook and bake, especially for the people I love.

63. If you really knew me, you would know that I freak out about the idea of defending a thesis when I get my master's degree.

64. If you really knew me, you would know that I want to adopt two children when I've settled down, a girl and a boy.

65. If you really knew me, you would know that although I've been doubtful about much in my future, I can't wait to be a mother.

66. If you really knew me, you would know that I am neither a Democrat nor Republican, I'm an independent liberal.

67. If you really knew me, you would know that I used to have cybersex with strangers.

68. If you really knew me, you would know that I have gone down on a girl and a boy.

69. If you really knew me, you would know that the most powerful religious experience I ever had was during a mushroom trip.

70. If you really knew me, you would know that I beat the shit out of a boy in a Piggly Wiggly parking lot when I found out my father had a nervous breakdown.

71. If you really knew me, you would know that I have always befriended the underdogs.

72. If you really knew me, you would know that I used to be an online stripper in Guild Wars. I took off my avatar's clothes and danced for gold.

73. If you really knew me, you would know that I talk to my mom about anything and everything, including sex.

74. If you really knew me, you would know that I was suicidal in middle school.

75. If you really knew me, you would know that I used to explore underground storm drains and abandoned buildings.

76. If you really knew me, you would know that I had my first real kiss when I was 13 with an 18-year-old gay boy.

77. If you really knew me, you would know that I didn't lose my virginity until I was 23.

78. If you really knew me, you would know that I am pretty damn happy most of the time, despite how it might seem occasionally.

79. If you really knew me, you would know that I want to publish a book and direct a movie before I die, even if no one reads or watches them.

80. If you really knew me, you would know that I have written two books for National Novel Writing Month.

81. If you really knew me, you would know that I have a menstrual cycle, despite the fact that I don't menstruate.

82. If you really knew me, you would know that I am somewhat bisexual, I just have a preference for men.

83. If you really knew me, you would know that I miss watching Saturday Morning Cartoons, especially Animaniacs, Batman and 90s Nickelodeon in general.

84. If you really knew me, you would know that I looked up to my mom, Catwoman, Batgirl, Lara Croft and Princess Leia when I was growing up.

85. If you really knew me, you would know that I was a huge Star Wars nerd until Phantom Menace was released.

86. If you really knew me, you would know that I love walking through toy stores and looking at children's books.

87. If you really knew me, you would know that I grew up in a family that read books out loud to each other. I intend to keep the tradition with my own children in the future.

88. If you really knew me, you would know that I try my best to love everyone, even the Republicans.

89. If you really knew me, you would know that I smoked my first joint when I was 13 and my first cigarette when I was 15.

90. If you really knew me, you would know that I had to learn to forgive myself before I could forgive others.

91. If you really knew me, you would know that I am in 4 student organizations and counting: OUT@Collin, VOICE, Secular Students and soon, Phi Theta Kappa.

92. If you really knew me, you would know that I feel most at peace when I write.

93. If you really knew me, you would know that I have a Superwoman complex.

94. If you really knew me, you would know that I went to Truancy Court in high school.

95. If you really knew me, you would know that I fucking love being a girl.

96. If you really knew me, you would know that I have been on hormone therapy for nearly 2 years.

97. If you really knew me, you would know that I am a private and reserved person, but I've learned to be outgoing through my work in the community.

98. If you really knew me, you would know that I have learned to answer uncomfortable questions about my body, but still resent people for asking them.

99. If you really knew me, you would know that I love getting comments on my blog.

100. If you really knew me, you would know that I rarely feel more at home than with my OUT@Collin, YFT and support group friends.

Pride

2010-09-14T17:13:00.003-05:00

We're getting close to Pride Weekend here in Dallas and I can't wait. It's been nearly two years since I've been to the Pride Parade and, I realized earlier this week, since I went "full-time" in my transition.

On September 21st, 2008 I was working at Lone Star Comics. It had been over a month since I came out to my friends and loved ones as a transsexual woman, though my co-workers still believed I was a gay boy. I wore baggy khakis, polo shirts and dress shoes to work every day, though the bra I wore underneath, the purse I carried and the makeup I applied everyday made my gender very ambiguous. The previous weekend my friends threw a "Transition Shower" to pass on clothes and accessories for my new wardrobe. Sunday was a slow day and I had just finished pulling down outdated comics and fixing the comic wall for next week. I took an extended lunch so I could go with two of my friends to downtown Dallas to see my first Pride Parade.

I had packed a change of clothes and began to strip in the car as soon as we got on the highway. "This is a right of passage. Every girl has changed her clothes while driving," My best friend's girl friend laughed. As I peeled away the masculine clothes to reveal smooth, pale skin and lingerie I felt free. Free to enjoy my body and dress the way I wished after decades of oppression. I pulled on tight jeans, switched out my sneakers for ballet flats and quickly pulled a black camisole and bright-colored top over my chest while I shouted to my best friend, "Don't look back here!" He had taken the whole process in great strides, and as we stepped out of the car his girlfriend proclaimed, "You look adorable!" And I did. Aside from my short hair cut I looked like any other 20-something young woman. If you had to guess why I was here, you'd probably say I was a lesbian.

I had been to Oak Lawn and Cedar Springs a few times before, trying my best to fade into the crowd and learn how to be a gay man. It was here I first accepted I was not one of them, but something else entirely. So the rainbow flags on every corner and shops geared to same-sex love were not novel to me. And the displays of drag queens, nearly naked men and rainbows splattered over every surface were expected for a Pride Parade, though I was seeing many in person for the first time. But what truly overwhelmed me was a sense of safety and acceptance pervading the air. Every time I had entered the world dressed as a woman previously I was on guard, aware of every single person looking my way. Here, I smiled at people and did not wonder if they were smiling back out of pity. The thought of "Do I pass?" never crossed my mind. I was even hit on by a disappointed lesbian, flattered to be deemed sexually appealing as a woman. I felt reborn, keenly aware of myself in a wonderful way.

As I returned to Lone Star I stared at the bag of my old clothes. I was supposed to change before we got there so no one would be the wiser. But I couldn't. For the first time I became disgusted, not with the idea of being out, but with going back into the closet. Though my heart beat faster as we approached the store I knew there was no turning back. I stepped out of the car, walked into the store and proceeded to go about my business as if nothing had happened. My co-worker didn't ask why I'd changed my clothes or even why I'd needed a two-hour break. We just closed down the registers, talked about what comics we were reading and said good night.

The next day, I returned to work to train my new manager. I wore black slacks, matching shoes and a blue sweater with a black belt. I approached him with a handshake and told him within minutes I had begun my transition and I'd like him to talk to management about it for me. He had no idea I was anything other than any other woman. He suggested I write an email during lunch and he'd discuss what needed to be done at the management meeting that week. I received a call from the owner that same day congratulating me and assuring I'd be dealt with respect and understanding. And the rest, as they say, is history. Something fundamental inside me changed in those two hours at the Pride Parade. I discovered my own pride, buried under shame and self-hatred and dusty from neglect. But more importantly, I discovered I was deserving of love. Realized I was no more different than all the body-painted, sign-carrying, pride-filled people out there. I finally began to feel normal.

The Transsexual Narrative

2010-09-07T16:35:00.003-05:00

I just read a powerful blog about trans women and our pre-transition experiences. She raises a profound point I have been thinking about in the back of my mind for a long time. It gnaws at me lazily but I can't put my finger on it. This finally woke me up.

She points out transsexuals are silenced through the classic "Transsexual Narrative" most cissexuals understand: The woman trapped in a man's body. "I felt like a girl ever since I was born. I played house and barbies and hated trucks and rough-housing. I would dress in my mother's/sister's/cousin's/neighbor's clothes and wish I was a girl. I was miserable as a boy, then one day I couldn't take it anymore and I changed sex and became a girl."

It's clean, it's simple and it continues to segregate the sexes even while acknowledging that some of us defy it's boundaries. And to some extent, parts of it are true for most trans women. Most of it is true for my childhood. But it denies two fundamental parts of transsexual experience:

1. We have always been women, even before we transitioned.
2. We have always been people, with hopes and happiness, even before we transitioned.

This does not fit into the Narrative. "If you were happy why did you transition?" Someone might say. "If you were a woman why did you act like a boy?" They deny our experience and turn it back on ourselves as something we should be ashamed about and keep silent. If I tell them I used to play House and Legos it breaks The Narrative. If I tell them I would lay on my bed at night and pray for God to make me a boy it breaks The Narrative. If I acknowledge my tomboyish tendencies of reading comics, playing X-men with my male friends and spending hours in front of the TV with my Nintendo growing up it breaks The Narrative. If you break The Narrative you risk alienating yourself and having your womanhood called into question.

What of the "male privilege" so many radical feminists brandish over trans women as proof we're not "real women". Who claim we haven't experienced a lifetime of discrimination, misogyny and sexualization? Bullshit. Was I perceived as a male for 20 years of my life? Yes, but I was not a genuine, cissexual, masculine male and therefore could not reap the privileges. I was beaten for my femininity, mocked for my feminism and sexualized by every magazine, movie and commercial who said, "This is a woman, not you. This sex-object created by marketing executives, eating disorders and air-brush artists is a woman, not you." And I believed them, like so many of my sisters, trans and cis. And in my adolescence I created a sex-object out of myself because I believed them. I hated the sex-object I forced myself to become just to feel like a woman and I hated myself for doing it.

Regardless of any particular treatment I may or may not have experienced, the internalized sexualization and self-hatred is worse than any "privilege". It has taken me years to separate sexuality from sexualization. To realize I can be a sexual being without being a sexual object. But I keep this part of my past silent because, on some level, I still fear being called out for not being a "real woman". I refuse to admit I ever gave in to misogyny for fear that feminism will reject me. No matter what a cissexual woman might experience, she never has to fear being denied as a woman, but trans women are denied by some for their assumed experience. Even as their punished for going outside of that assumed experience. It's a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't policy. Some radical feminists say, "This is what you are and don't tell me otherwise because I'm too smart for that, you man-made-woman." And that hurts more than they'll ever know because they've always experienced cissexual privilege.

Finally, I'll end this entry with a position my mother and I disagree on. She's wonderfully supportive and loving and the best mom I could ever ask for, but whenever I mention being open about my transsexuality she disagrees with my actions. She says eventually when I get older I won't feel the need to talk about my transsexual experience, that I'll just let it go. And maybe she's right. Maybe when I'm 40 I won't even think about it any more but somehow, I doubt it. Because, for better of worse, being transsexual is part of who I am. When I was growing up I believed the only way to experience womanhood was to be cissexual. But when I finally transitioned I had the self-realization that I'm not a cissexual woman and I never will be. I'm a transsexual woman and there's nothing wrong or less genuine about that existence, it's just simply less common, less heard of. But I could change that. I could make a difference by embracing my birth status, by acknowledging my experience as another unique female perspective in a world full of them. I do not speak for Transsexuals and I do not speak for Women, but I do speak for this one.

Between

2010-08-09T15:03:00.000-05:00

For the last two months I've been unemployed. I've searched for jobs, had interviews and had my hopes crash around me several times. The last time I was without a job I was 19. It was one of the darkest times I can remember in my adult life. I was living in a one-bedroom apartment with three roommates, still deep in depression and denial about my transsexuality and my mother and sister were going through their own crisis I was powerless against. I felt worthless, despite what my family and friends told me at every low point. I tried to believe them, but just faked a smile so they would stop making me feel better.

Eventually, I found a job washing dishes at an Austrian restaurant with my friend and neighbor. Although the hours were long and the work was hard I was happy again. Happy to work and joke and rally with others. A couple weeks later I landed my "dream job" at the time, working for a comic shop. I worked both part-time jobs until I received a promotion and raise at Lone Star Comics. Although there was nepotism, incredibly flawed management style and high-pressure with low pay I stayed for nearly 4 years. I grew up in that store. I lived through 6 apartments, 7 roommates, 5 store managers, over a dozen associates and countless trails. I transformed before everyone's eyes into a woman with hardly a glance and learned to love myself. Enough to realize I had to go back to school, which I couldn't do working at Lone Star. I found a waitress job across the street and said goodbye to the friends, customers, co-workers and mentors I'd made.

I thrived at Little Chef just as I had at Lone Star. I learned customers names, preferences and earned generous tips while working only two days out of the week. Within a few months the owner asked me to open his new restaurant with him over an hour away. By now I felt like a member of the family. It was the first job where no one knew me to be anything other than a college girl and I enjoyed that freedom immensely. At first I enjoyed the excitement of setting up my own waitress station, organizing supplies, tracking expenses and payroll with my boss, meeting new customers, watching a business grow and interviewing and hiring new girls. But that wore off as the hours began to wear me down. I was traveling 3 hours a day, waking up at 3 in the morning and getting home at 5 in the afternoon and my bosses eccentricity was beginning to rub the wrong way. He was a conservative Republican who loved to listen to talk radio or lecture me that racism, sexism, misogyny and homophobia were all just inventions to start trouble. This white male immigrant refused to see even the possibility that someone else might experience life differently from him. Then he wrecked his truck and became stranded in East Texas. Although he walked away unscathed, I'm thankful I was not there that day. I took this as an opportunity to find employment elsewhere and began the search. Which brings us back to present day.

Sometimes it's hard to muster up the conviction to walk through the scorching Texas Summer sun just to get rejected by another potential employer. I've begun to worry that I'm unfit for any skilled labor. My mom forwards me writing gigs posted on websites. "Submit samples of your work" fills me with dread. "Me?" I think, "My work? I can't write comedy sketches for a news program. I can't create articles for the school paper." Suddenly my blog or journal or whatever you want to call it seems like a silly hobby of an even sillier girl. I've avoided it for ages because I can't shake this ugly feeling of worthlessness. I'm keenly aware that my self-worth has always been tied into my work. Without a job or class to attend my esteem is cast about with no anchor. I feel defeated every time I have to rely on my mother to cover my expenses. I'm ashamed to think my sister is 4 years younger and never seems to have this trouble. Day care teacher to actress to nanny, she makes it seem effortless. I feel I can't even approach that kind of maturity.

My mother, roommate and boyfriend are miraculously patient and loving, boosting my spirits when I need it, for which I am eternally grateful. Although my hunt has failed to bear fruit I still keep afloat most of the time with a spark of optimism. A spark I'm keenly aware I did not have during my last employment gap. But this time, I'm not taking the pain lying down. I've filed for Financial Aid for the first time in my life and should be receiving a very generous amount, hopefully with work-study. It's not something I'd wish to completely rely on, but it's an option. I'm taking the free time to focus on my Presidential obligations to Out, filling out paperwork and networking while I can. I'm also doing my best to see the bright side and enjoy the freedom rather than dwell in the failure. I'm still filling out applications and crossing my fingers. I know something will come around, I just wish it was sooner rather than later.

Represent

2010-07-26T21:33:00.000-05:00

Over the last few weeks the same conversation continues to crop up among my friends: media representation of transsexual women. Since this may be a subject I pursue in my education I've made it my mission to watch any movie featuring trans women. There are any number of formulaic documentaries that dissect the physical transition process, starting with hormones and ending with “The Surgery” as though that's the end of their transsexual experience. But to find an American fictional story featuring a trans woman is another adventure entirely.

You might go back to the 80s and 70s, when trans women were comic relief and not to be taken seriously. Great examples include The World According to Garp, which features a “pathetic” trans woman who can never get a date. Or there's Dog Day Afternoon, about two men who rob a bank in order to pay for a trans woman's surgery. It could be a shining example if she weren't portrayed as a flamboyant, hysterical, emotional drag queen and if she didn't utter the damning line, “The doctor told me I was a woman trapped in a man's body.”

By the 90s trans women were moved up to major characters but the homophobia directed at them is so thick you could cut it with a knife. There's the infamous Crying Game, in which the main character's girlfriend is shockingly revealed to be transsexual, resulting in disgust and vomit. Or perhaps Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, which features a trans woman as the villain only for the “hilarious” joke of revealing her status and making police officers vomit.

In the sophisticated New Millennium trans women become main characters but continue to be mocked and ridiculed in a more insidious way. These movies pass themselves off as progressive, pro-trans movies while robbing the transsexual experience of all meaning and inserting their own agenda. There's Normal, which, according to the writer and director, uses transsexuality as a metaphor for “ultimate betrayal” in a marriage. Roy, the trans woman, is not meant to be taken seriously as a woman. The actor who plays her even uses male pronouns while describing his character in interviews. Transamerica uses transsexuality for comedic effect. It's a road trip movie in which the main character, Bree, must bail her unknown son from jail before her therapist will sign off on her surgery. We're expected to laugh at her deep voice and awkward, simpering attempt at being feminine. We're expected to reel when her son sees her penis and later tries to sleep with her but we are never expected to identify with her, only pity her. Although she is portrayed by an actress, much rehearsal and research was dedicated to “masculinizing” her so she could “accurately” embody a transsexual woman, something she and the director take great pride in.

In a way, the new movies are the most dangerous. By utilizing the physical transition process they present just enough evidence to seem like legitimate portrayals. Unaware cissexuals can watch them and feel progressive and tolerant while being fed stereotypes and gross inaccuracies. They leave the movie thinking, “Those poor transsexuals! Aren't they sad, pathetic people? It's so nice for them to be in a movie. That actor did such a fantastic job we should give him an Oscar.” This is the black-face equivalent for transsexual women. Rather than allow actual trans women to write, direct and portray transsexual life we're expected to be grateful for the gross misrepresentations of ignorant cissexuals that hijack our experience for their own agendas. Only when we begin to speak for ourselves can we repair the damage done.

Too Old for Games

2010-07-12T15:39:00.005-05:00

Perhaps it's because of my own unique upbringing, but I have zero patience for a lot of crap my fellow women do to each other and men. Excuse me while I rant:

I don't play mind games. I say what I want, when I want it. If I don't, I have no one to blame for poor communication but myself.

I don't start or enjoy drama. My life has enough ups and downs without manufacturing more.

I don't withhold sex to punish, win arguments or gain favors. I like sex, my boyfriend likes sex and we have to work together to enjoy it. It's not some carrot to dangle in front of his nose.

I don't ask questions I don't want answers to. I will never ask if my butt looks big and expect a lie. While we're at it, I will never ask if my butt looks big.

I am not passive-aggressive, I am active-aggressive. If I have a problem I will let you know about it. If you continue to evade a resolution then I'll move on without you. I don't have time for aggression, life is short.

I don't put others down to feel better about myself. No matter how ugly, bitchy or stupid someone might be it doesn't make me prettier, nicer or smarter to point it out. Everyone has eyes, they'll figure it out on their own. I help them or move on with my life.

I don't gossip. If you tell me to keep a secret I will take it to my grave regardless of our relationship. I will not use it to blackmail or smirch you later.

I don't diet. If I say I'm not hungry I'm not hungry. If I am hungry I'll eat more than a salad. I exercise to get in shape and release endorphins, not to lose weight. I love my body regardless of it's shape and know true sexiness comes from confidence, not dimensions.

I don't rely on others for happiness. I don't expect my boyfriend, friends, family or anyone else to make my life better, but I always appreciate their love and help. It's my life, I'm the one who's in charge.

I don't pretend to be stupid. If I hear two boys argue about comic books I will put in my two cents. If the teacher asks the class a question I will raise my hand with the answer every time I know it. Some call me a know-it-all, I just don't like to lie.

Don't get me wrong, not all women engage in such childish actions. I have plenty of girlfriends who don't, hence why I'm friends with them. But I've seen far too many women partake in these and more because it's "expected" of them. "That's how women are," seems to be the common defense. Excuse me, but I'm calling bullshit on all of it. I know plenty of women who will back me up. Forgot about what's expected of you and just be yourself, it makes life a lot less complicated.

Intimate Details

2010-07-09T15:08:00.004-05:00

I've never been one to share intimacy easily, especially physically. I have not appreciate being hugged or prodded or even touched most of my life. It wasn't about other bodies invading my personal space, my personal space was the problem. A couple years ago my self-esteem wasn't even low, more like non-existent. I viewed my body as nothing more than a shell containing my consciousness. Sensations and perceptions filtered through the shell but felt distant, detached, alien somehow. I could not understand the preoccupation everyone had with physical contact. I appreciated the gestures of hugs, kisses and touches but did not get pleasure from it. Relationships that dared to breach my physical barrier were quickly doomed to failure.

Slowly, I embraced intellectual intimacy because matters of the mind did not require access to the physical body. My first friendships were based on conversation and shared interests. But when every theory is discussed and every story shared there is nowhere left to go. Emotional intimacy was soon expected. I feigned emotions rather than express my own. If my emotions were known I would be seen as the monster I truly was. I observed others and emulated their feelings for the rest of the world. Though many believed my ploy I could never deceive myself. I could not change who or what I was. Once I accepted this simple fact my emotions began to slip through my fingers until the dam in my heart burst.

I shared my emotions with others and saw my own reflected back. With them I learned to laugh away my shame. I realized I was not a monster or alien or freak, just a girl. A girl with unusual circumstances perhaps, but nothing to get hung up about. What once plagued me in my darkest hours was just another part of my life. I embraced what I needed and cast off what held me back. I worked out the biggest of issues and was ready to love another. I wanted a man to love but knew he would come in time. I lived my life, bettered myself and found love with my friends. I finally enjoyed the hugs, cheek kisses, friendly touches and embraces. I had learned to love my body and wanted to share it with others.

Without struggle or effort my man and I found each other. Although I knew I wanted to share myself with him from only a few encounters , he needed more time. I cried, stepped back, befriended him and accepted the possibility of nothing more. But we did embrace when the time was right and for once in my life I am completely unafraid of intimacy. I never second-guess my thoughts, feelings or actions. I am always in the moment with him and feel like I can share anything. But that feeling goes beyond when we're together. I feel stronger now. I've stood emotionally and physically naked in front of another human being and grown from it. I've never felt so calm, so mature, so balanced as I do now. The future will always bring hardships, but I know I can embrace my loved ones and ride out any storm. Life is not so scary anymore.

Pick a Number

2010-06-29T17:02:00.001-05:00

This may sound self-serving, but it takes a lot of inner strength to survive transsexuality. When the entire world is trying to convince you of a lie from birth it's hard to stand up and fight it. Especially when it's tied into every aspect of our society. People who were gendered correctly at birth hardly notice how gender-saturated our world is. Humans naturally follow the path of least resistance and only question what is uncomfortable. Therefore, most people accept sports, restrooms, occupations, titles, roles, mannerisms, clothes, hair styles and names are divided between an insurmountable wall. But why can't a little girl shave her head and dream of being a firefighter? Why can't a little boy wear a pink dress and take ballet classes? Why aren't children allowed to say what gender they wish to be raised in? There's no logical reason for it, only the taboo enforcing the illusion of a gender binary.

Alfred Kinsey teaches us physical sex, sexual orientation, gender identity and gender expression are not binary choices but sliding scales we all reside on. He used a range of 1 to 7 and stated that no one is a true 1 or 7. It's a double bell-curve, meaning most reside between 1.5 and 2.5 or 5.5 to 6.5 but not all of us. So no one is all male or female, gay or straight, cissexual or transsexual, masculine or feminine. We're a unique blend of all 8 categories, which creates our perspective and colors our experiences. Because labels only allow two choices we deny incompatible aspects in order to fit one. It's like forcing a round peg in an octagonal hole. Sure, it's a close fit but not perfect.

For instance, although I identify as a straight, feminine, transsexual female I have many aspects that conflict with these identities. Although the sum of my parts represents a female, isolated traits are arguably male. While I'm sexually interested in men I also find women attractive. While I was born with external genitalia than conflict with my gender identity, my body naturally creates more estrogen than testosterone. Although I have a nurturing nature and feminine style of dress I'm also assertive and enjoy video games. If everyone was honest with themselves, we could all create a list of factors. It's not to say we don't identify with one label more than the other, but we must admit we straddle both to some extent. Once we learn to live with our dual natures the binary becomes less important.

Do I act differently around men and women? Gay and straight? Cissexual and transsexual? Of course I do, but I also acknowledge I bring a list of preconceived notions for each label and understand no one fulfills all the criteria. Therefore I don't balk at a boy in high heels and makeup when I'm at Youth First. I don't fret about being a lesbian just because I appreciate breasts. I don't expect cissexuals to be 100% comfortable in their gender, nor do I "gatekeep" the term transsexual. We are all free to label ourselves in whatever way we're most comfortable. It expresses our experience in a generalized way, but it doesn't define us. Once we realize we're free from definition we'll stop trying to enforce it onto others.

So Long, Thanks for All the Mammaries

2010-06-21T23:08:00.000-05:00

I recently opened my own Netflix account because I love the way it learns my personal taste over time as well as the access to many obscure foreign films and documentaries. When I saw the description for Breasts: A Documentary in my suggested movies I pounced on it:

"22 women talk about the role breasts have played in their varied life experiences. Providing a nakedness in their responses that's difficult to deny, the film's subjects include a voluptuous transsexual, a stripper with implants, an 11-year-old on the cusp of puberty, a 420-pound comedienne and an 84-year-old grandmother."

I was excited to see what so many different women had to say about such a rich and generally taboo subject and was thrilled that a trans woman had been included. Then the opening line felt like a punch to the tit. "Before filming we circulated questionnaires asking women to tell us about their breasts...208 women and one man responded."

As soon as I heard it I knew they were referring to the transsexual woman as a "man" but I tried to reserve judgment until the end of the movie. A restaurant hostess is interviewed halfway through the show about her "breast enhancement". An enhanced stripper also talks about how "good" and "real" are not always synonymous, nor are "bad" and "fake". Conveniently, every negative descriptor is said right before the hostess is spliced back in to talk about her surgery. At the end of the segment the hostess shockingly reveals she was born transsexual and from that moment on we never hear from her again.

Why didn't they ask how the trans woman felt about breasts when she was young? Why didn't they ask her the effects breasts had on her personal life? Why didn't she get to talk about her own love-hate relationship with bras? Why did they only bother to show her during the segment on surgery? Because she's transsexual and apparently that's we're allowed to be "experts" on. Everything else is left up to the cissexuals.

Maybe I'm just being overly sensitive. For a movie that's nearly 15 years old having a trans woman is amazingly progressive and I'm still willing to believe the "man" they mentioned was not actually featured. But even if that's true, I'm still sick of seeing transsexuals used for nothing more than shock value. For years now our life experiences have been co-opted by cissexual artists and intellectuals looking for a cheap thrill. They don't bother to think about how the transsexual feels about cissexual assumptions. They don't ask how hard it must have been to fight society and your own body to be the woman you are. They don't know what it's like to have your gender called into question just because you're trusting enough to share your story. We're painted to be "artificial" so insecure cissexuals can feel "genuine".

We're presented as everything from pathetic losers to gorgeous deceivers and used as metaphors, punch lines and plot twists but rarely are we shown to be simple human beings with some personal baggage like everyone else. The day I see stories about transsexual women by transsexual women we'll finally be heading in the right direction. Until then, if you're going to feature a trans woman in a work of art here's a suggestion on how to really shake things up: treat her like any other woman. If the similarities between transsexuals and cissexuals make them squirm in their seats and scratch their heads you've done something right.

Why We Write

2010-06-18T23:14:00.003-05:00

The best part about keeping an online journal, something I've done for about six year now, is being able to look back at the person I once was and see the steps I took to get here. I can return to long-forgotten dreams and fears and gain perspective. Do I look back at my very first posts from my deep-in-denial stage and cringe with embarrassment? You bet. But it's good to know I've evolved from that person into something beautiful and natural. When I read my "coming out" letter I remember how much my hands shook as I stayed up until 3 in the morning to get the words just right. I read the notes following my first few months of transition and laugh the way a big sister laughs when her sibling shares trials she's faced long ago. The overwhelming joy to be free, the utter annoyance of misogyny, the bewilderment of gender expectations and the excitement for every step forward. As time went on my confidence grew and my voice got stronger.

I could write about the roommate who lived here less than two weeks after convincing herself that Jess or myself were responsible for the death of her dog. I could rant about how we were ripped off with the internet deposit or how my landlord's threatening to sell the house while refusing to return my calls. But I won't, because that's all behind me and I'm sick of thinking about it.

I made a commitment to get back into this blog and I've been thinking about what made it so enjoyable. Looking back, my first semester of college was awakening and empowering. It was the first time I'd ever been myself in the education system. I could concentrate on my studies instead of fooling people. The students and teachers were the first people to know me as female and nothing else. If I chose to share my past it was on my terms. I found my voice about my birth defect and proclaimed the truth proudly while dispelling misconceptions. Best of all, I found a new family of friends and fell in love.

I never used to look to my future with hope. I knew all the right answers and dutifully wrote them down as my own goals but never strived for anything. I drifted along waiting for life to find me rather than find it myself. It seems impossible to portray just how crazy gender dysphoria really is growing up, but it's not something I'd wish on my worst enemy. Overcoming it has been my greatest trial and my greatest source of strength. Unlike most girls, I have fought depression, ignorance, prejudice, self-loathing and disgust just to claim my rightful womanhood. I write because I'm a survivor. I write because I have something to say worth listening to. I write because I have a story to share and a life to celebrate.

Book Club

2010-06-14T20:56:00.003-05:00

Last week I finished re-reading Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano. I read this book a year or so ago, giving me new confidence in my identity as a feminist. It was the first book I found that actually understood transsexuality as I saw it. A book about transsexual women by a transsexual woman. What a concept! I'd like to share one of my favorite passages today because it's been very empowering.

"Deconstructive Surgery"

Because I'm an out trans woman, there is one question that follows me around wherever I go. Inquiring minds want to know: Have I "gone all the way"? You know, have I had "the surgery"?

And to me, it feels like a no-win inquisition. If I tell the truth - "No, not yet" - then I get to deal with everybody else's emotional baggage, because nothing makes people more paranoid that a real-life female with a phallus. Straight men shake in their boots at the possibility that they might "accidentally" become attracted to me. And those who patrol the gates of women-only spaces are often dead set on discriminating against me, driven by the ridiculous belief that my girly little estrogenized penis is somehow still pulsating with hypermasculine energy.

On the other hand, having the operation has its own stigma attached to it. No medical methodology induces as much fear and anxiety as SRS - sex reassignment surgery. A friend told me that he once saw SRS on the video Faces of Death, sandwiched between real-life shark attacks and murder attempts. Some people go so far as to call SRS a form of self-mutilation, conveniently ignoring the fact that more common procedures, such as nose jobs and liposuction, similarly involve the removal of a small amount of nonessential tissue.

Most people are surprised when I tell them that the surgeons don't really cut the penis off. They just turn it inside out and move the nerve endings around to make a functional and realistic-looking clitoris and vagina. At this point, I am invariably asked if I want SRS so that I can have sex with a man. And you should see the blank stares that I get when I reply, "No, but I'm really looking forward to having my wife fuck me with a strap-on dildo."

See, we live in a phallus-obsessed culture, where we're all brought up to believe that everything having to do with gender and sexuality somehow revolves around the penis. That's why so many clueless straight guys come on to dykes with pickup lines like, "Once you've had the real thing, baby, you won't ever go back." Some men actually buy into that phallocentric crap! And it's also why most people can't even talk about transsexual women or SRS without centering the discussion on the penis.

But my desire to have SRS has virtually nothing to do with my penis. This is about my wanting to have a clitoris and vagina. But we don't even have the language to describe this desire. It's the ultimate Freudian slip: We naturally assume that all young girls suffer penis envy, but we can't imagine that any boy could possibly have its polar opposite. It's all in the words we use. When someone is bold or brave, we say they have "balls," while words like "pussy" and "cunt" are only ever spoken as insults. And while everyone seems to understand how the penis works, we treat female genitalia like they're a mysterious black box. Most young women aren't even taught the names of all their own body parts; some are unaware that the clitoris even exists; and as for the vagina, well, aren't we all taught to see that as simply the hole where the penis is supposed to go?

So it's no wonder that most people assume that I must be mentally ill, because in this culture, wanting to be a woman is something most people find literally unimaginable. And when I do have SRS, my surgically deconstructed genitals will no doubt be seen by some to be an abomination or a blasphemy. Because my cunt will be the ultimate question mark, asking, How powerful can the penis really be if a sane and smart person like me decides she can do without it? And if the world supposedly revolves around the penis, then my SRS will knock it off its axis. And phallic sumbols everywere will come crashing down like nothing more than house of cards. After all, a cigar is always just a cigar. And I am simply me. And I am fed up with other people projecting their penis obsessions onto my body. As far and I'm concerned, if they can't fathom why I might want to trade in my penis for a clitoris and vagina, then they're the ones who have the gender disorder.

And one more section that always makes me proud to be born transsexual.

Excerpt from "Love Rant"

My friend [...] asked me, "So what is it about trans women's bodies that you find most attractive?"

I paused for a second to consider the question. Then I replied that it is almost always their eyes. When I look into them, I see both endless strength and inconsolable sadness. I see someone who has overcome humiliation and abuses that would flatten the average person. I see a woman who was made to feel shame for her desires and yet had the courage to pursue them anyway. I see a woman who was forced against her will into boyhood, who held on to a dream that everybody in her life desperately tried to beat out of her, who refused to listen to the endless stream of people who told her that who she was and what she wanted was impossible.

When I look into trans women's eyes, I see a profound appreciation for how fucking empowering it can be to be female, an appreciation that seems lost on many cissexual women who sadly take their female identities and anatomies for granted, or who perpetually seek to cast themselves as victims rather than instigators. In trans women's eyes, I see a wisdom that can only come from having to fight for your right to be recognized as female, a raw strength that only comes from unabashedly asserting your right to be feminine in an inhospitable world. In a trans woman's eyes, I see someone who understands that, in a culture that's seemingly fueled on male homophobic hysteria, choosing to be female and openly expressing one's femininity is not a sign of frivolousness, weakness, or passivity, it is a fucking badge of courage. Everybody loves to say that drag queens are "fabulous," but nobody seems to get the fact that trans women are fucking badass!

Prom, Work and More

2010-06-13T11:29:00.005-05:00

I finally have internet access and a working computer at my house! This means I no longer have an excuse to put off my blog. It's not that I didn't enjoy writing every day, but it is pretty easy to fall out of the habit if I'm not careful. I kept up with my notebook for a while, but I enjoy writing this blog a lot more. The notebook is generally saved for "internal" and personal issues.

These past couple weeks have been huge, so I have plenty to update before I get back into the swing of my daily postings. Last Saturday Chris and I attended the Gayla Prom with our friends at Youth First Texas. I must confess I dreamed of this night for months when I first met Chris on his birthday, then learned about the Prom, then made my decision to go with him even if I had to ask him myself. You know the rest of the story.

Unlike many of the patrons that night I had been to my high school prom years ago. Of course, it was nothing close to what I wanted. My date was my recently "ex"ed-girlfriend, which made for extremely awkward moments of silence and animosity. I wore a suit that matched her dress and felt miserable until the After Prom, which allowed me to gamble my problems away at the "casino" in our school cafeteria and avoid her for the rest of the night. We've since made peace now that we understand ourselves better.

Gayla Prom allowed me to take back what could have been a wonderful night. I no longer had to disguise myself with a black suit and tie, I wore a little black dress and felt gorgeous. I wasn't hiding behind a woman to ease suspicion, I was standing proudly with the man I love. The patrons at my old prom looked hetero-normative and intimidatingly happy, while Gayla Prom had more girls in suits than boys and ended with a fabulous drag show. At night's end three boys were crowned Prom King, Queen and In-Between. There were no fights, no animosity, nothing but joy and celebration. If only all high school proms could be so open and inviting. The night ended perfectly as I fell asleep in Chris's arms.

The following week has been crazy, starting with Chris's summer schedule, which means we wait until the weekend to see each other for longer than 5 minutes. I dropped off my resume for Half-Price books and have not heard back yet but remain hopeful. They've been on my top list of employers for some time, not only because I'm a nerd who loves books but because they're health plan covers hormones and surgery. On Tuesday I was appointed President of Out@Collin. It's a little intimidating but I'm ready for the challenge. My boss was in a wreck this week and although he's fine I've been out of work this week because he's stranded in Cooper. I was late to my first GI Night at YFT due to a bus fiasco but we had a record turnout and had a great time. This Friday our water was cut off and quickly restored thanks to my roommate's free time caused by her car's failure to start. The week ended with a Star Trek marathon, the new Shrek movie, group therapy and a D&D session that involved crashing a wedding. All in all, a pretty hectic but rewarding week. If I could get some work and more time with Chris it would be perfect. Oh well, we can't have it all, right?

Summer Start

2010-05-25T14:48:00.001-05:00

So it's been about two weeks since I last posted. On the one hand, it was a nice break and I'm glad to recharge my batteries, so to speak. But I'm also a writer and that means when I'm not writing I tend to go a little crazy. I kept things going by writing in my journal while at work and that gave me the outlet I needed but now I'm back online and ready to dish about what's been happening.

In activist news, we've got all of OUT's events planned for next semester and just have a little tweaking to do over the summer. We'll be hosting movie nights, discussion boards, passing out condoms with new themes for each month, including AIDS Awareness, Transgender Rights, Pride and Coming Out. We're showing some of my favorite movies and I get to really flex my writing muscles with the newsletter when we get into full swing. I'm pretty motivated!

At Youth First Texas I'll be hosting the next couple Gender Identity Nights with my friend Shawn. I'll also have the joy of helping a couple girls start their transitions later this month. It's pretty moving for me. Just a few years ago I was depressed and convinced my life would be a miserable facade. Now I'm not only happy and living with my truth but helping others find their way through the fog. I've come around full-circle and can give back to the world that helped me. Words can't describe how grateful I am.

I love my boyfriend. A lot. I'm not one to throw the "L Word" out there lightly, but it's true. No matter what comes up we can always talk without any awkward feelings or mistrust. I've shared things with him I never thought would be possible and in some ways I've never been closer with another person. The more we get to know each other the deeper that feeling grows. I've been able to trust him unconditionally, not only with my past and body but my fears and hopes for the future. When we first started dating I couldn't believe I was worthy of such happiness in my life, but I've come to accept we're both just as beneficial for the other and I am worth it. I thought I had confidence before, but now I feel invincible.

My new house is awesome but has come with some landlord drama issues. We're still ironing a few things out with the utilities but Jess is easily the best roommate I've had. Our schedules are nearly perfect opposites so we don't see too much of each other but we fix things by communicating, what a concept. Our housewarming party was amazing, with about 20 people showing up for food and booze we managed to stuff everyone to the gills and let them leave happy.

My job, on the other hand, is not that great. My boss and I have never seen eye to eye on most political issues but while I'm willing to let it go he's constantly bringing it up so he can tell me why he's right and I'm an idiot. It wouldn't bother me except I spend about 14 hours with the guy on a given work day when you include the drive to and from Cooper. The pay is pretty crappy too because these country folks still don't understand that tipping starts at 15 percent. It's not "throw a couple bucks on the counter for a table of 6". I've haven't decided completely yet, but I think I might start looking for another waitress job. As much as I wish I could help Elias and his family start the new restaurant it's just too much stress for not enough money. Simple as that.

I just found out an hour ago that my best friend is moving back to Dallas to live with her aunt. This is so amazing I can't even think coherently about it but I'm totally calling her tonight because we need to catch up on so much anyway. I also just found out I got a 4.0 for the semester, despite getting a B in Algebra. Don't ask me, I'm not going to complain! That just about sums everything up. Until I get internet access in my house I won't be able to update daily like I used to, but I'll do my best to keep it weekly at least. Love you guys, hope your Summer is going well!

Dear Dori - Hesitant Supporter

2010-05-10T12:39:00.003-05:00

This is the first article for my advice column in the OUT! newsletter. Enjoy!

Dear Dori,

I have a friend who believes he may be transsexual. He is easily influenced and currently surrounded by trans-identified friends and I'm concerned he may be jumping into the wrong decision about his body. I was wondering how permanent the effects of hormone therapy are and how to express my concerns to him. I don't want to offend or push him away but I want to make sure he's making a sound decision. How can I approach this topic with him before it's too late?

-Hesitant Supporter

Dear Hesitant Supporter,

First, let me ease your concern by saying no one "becomes" transsexual from contact with the transgender community, nor are they "convinced" or "brainwashed" by a trans-sympathetic doctor or therapist. We are all born with our gender identity in tact, but some have a harder time expressing it than others. It sounds like your friend is simply exploring their options in an accepting community. Hormone therapy is safe and effective when carried out with a doctor's care but street hormones are never the answer. I strongly urge them to avoid hormone replacement therapy until they have discussed their options with an endocrinologist. RC Dallas has a great program called GEAR (gear@rcdallas.org) that provides medical assistance every third Monday for transgender individuals but requires a therapist note for hormones. I recommend Feleshia Porter, (www.feleshiaporter.com) who specializes in GLBTQA issues and has flexible fees for students. Just remember to approach your friend with respect and trust them to know who they are and what they need. Be their friend by supporting whatever decision they make and providing any assistance you can.

Your ally,
Dori

Sword of Damocles

2010-05-05T15:28:00.002-05:00

I'm nearing the end of Hell Week and I've reached the point where I've prioritized and stopped caring about a lot of my stress. My English paper is finished. Not great, but I have the weekend to work on it. I have algebra homework I'll do all day after class and a test tomorrow. If I fail all of that I still pass the class, and that's all I care about at this point. My psych exam is on Friday, but I just got a 91 on the last test I swore I hadn't prepared for. So here I am, able to write a post on blog which I've been wanting all week. (Wait, how long has it been now?) Unfortunately I'm still in a funny mood so this won't be my normal bouncy-happy self.

As of tomorrow I'll have been in a relationship for two weeks. This simple fact alone shocks the hell out of me. My boyfriend treats me exactly how I like and has handled my various complications amazingly well. We've been physically active since the first date and things have progressed quite quickly since then. We tend to feed off each other. He's aggressive and I'm kind of kinky and we both love it. We are still virgins...but only just. I still have a hard time believing I've found a man who's not only comfortable with my body but turned on in a way that makes me feel sexy as hell.

But of course, whenever something good comes into my life I start dwelling about the possibility of losing it later; how badly that will hurt and what it might do to me. I have abandonment issues and unlike most I don't believe in fate or soul mates or any other cosmic being pairing people together for eternity. The stupid thing about it is he's given me absolutely no reason to be worried. We're always on the same page about where our relationship is and where it's going. We communicate well and we can enjoy each other's company in perfect silence without feeling pressured to blather on nervously. I hate myself for always bringing up these negative vibes and I'm trying very hard to squash them down. When I'm alone I worry we might be moving too quickly and that will somehow change his view of me and doom the relationship from the start, but when I'm with him I'm completely calm and feel foolish for my previous thoughts.

I just need to get over these issues and stop worrying so much. I have someone really special who understands me and wants the same things out of a relationship I do. Could something bad happen later on? Yes, of course. We could break up or marry or die or separate or who knows what else. There is no way of knowing what will come and no reason to assume one outcome over another. I have a boyfriend who makes me smile and however long that lasts, I've been blessed. The future is unknown and the only way to figure it out is to live day by day and enjoy it as much as you can.

Next Week: Hell

2010-04-29T14:01:00.003-05:00

I only have about ten minutes to update this thing, due to my moving tonight and my many papers tomorrow. So I'll just try to fill you in on what's been up with me lately.

In case you haven't heard already, I have a boyfriend! He's pretty awesome, but I won't go into details just yet because I'd like to have a little more time to sort my thoughts. Suffice it to say I'm very lucky to have a man who's so sweet and understanding of my situation. Not to mention he's a pretty good kisser (among other things).

I'm moving tonight! I have a new house set up with my friend, Jess. Tonight will be my first night in the new place and I'm looking forward to living closer to school and my social activities. It's a pretty nice place and I'm hoping to have a housewarming party after all the exams and drama subsides from the end of school.

I have way too much homework and not enough time! Tonight I have to go to a Karate exam and write a paper about it by Monday, which is also when my English research paper is due for peer review. Not to mention the History research paper due on Friday I'm only halfway done with and the Out Newsletter which will have to wait until the end of next week. I also have a ton of Algebra homework and two tests I have to finish by the 6th, so I'm going to be a very busy girl next week and probably won't be updating as often as I'd like.

However, things have settled at work now with two competent and reliable waitresses and I've been getting increasingly better tips. With enough luck this summer I'll be able to save up for a car as well as laser treatment. This should help me establish some credit so I can take out a loan for my shiny new vagina by next year. Cross your fingers, but I'm hoping to get it all finished by the time I'm 25. Luckily I have a boyfriend how doesn't stress out or pressure me over that sort of thing.

That pretty much sums up where I've been so far. More detailed posts to come, I swear. But probably not for a week or so. Just hope that I get all this crap done and manage to escape with my sanity!

Barren

2010-04-26T16:53:00.002-05:00

A friend of mine informed me this week is National Infertility Awareness Week.

Since he shared his story and views about infertility I thought I'd share mine today.

Although there is progress being made on uterine transplants and other fertility work, as a transsexual woman I cannot bear children. This was one aspect of my body I had a hard time coming to terms with and on the wrong day I still get worked up about it. It does not mean I will never be a mom, just that I will never experience pregnancy.

Okay, that last sentence stung a little but I can handle it. I've learned to dig deep into my Taoist perspective and accept that being infertile is how I was meant to be. There are so many children in the world who need adoption and I'm happy to open my heart even if we don't share genetic material. When I was growing up I always denied any desire for children. I believed at the time my only option was to be a father. *shudder, not for me* Only when I fully embraced my womanhood did I feel the "pain of infertility".

For a while I clung to the hope I could adopt my first child and later birth a second through uterine surgery. But then I thought how that would feel to my first child. Like I didn't love her as much because she was adopted? Like our relationship was less genuine? Then I really thought about why I needed to have a baby. Did I believe I was less of a woman for being infertile? Did I feel like I'd be less maternal without experiencing pregnancy? Did I think being pregnant was fun or glamorous? No, of course not. So what was the big loss?

Do I look down on others who use fertility clinics to manipulate their odds of pregnancy? No. On a personal level I can understand where they're coming from. But I don't agree with the amount of money and resources spent on the hope of a genetic child that could be used to support an existent, adoptive child.

I've come to terms with my infertility and I'm looking forward to adopting children when I'm ready for them. In many ways I'm lucky. I didn't have to worry about teenage pregnancy or family pressure. I don't take birth control. I don't need to deal with abortion. That doesn't stop me from having strong opinions as a pro-choice feminist, but I will never have to make that choice personally. And I'm grateful for that.

Reproduction has been used as a justification for calling GLBT individuals "unnatural", despite the evidence of GLBT behavior outside of the human race. For some really great examples check out Evolution's Rainbow. But do we consider infertile hetero-cissexuals "unnatural"? No, we just consider them unfortunate, still casting them as sub-human. This attitude deeply offends my feminist ideals because it implies women are only good for their wombs as a depository for men's sperm. If a man can't produce children he's somehow less of one, despite all his actions. This reproductive bias has to stop but I wonder if it ever will?

Kiss and Tell

2010-04-23T12:50:00.003-05:00

I went on my first date last night. That's right, my first date ever in the right body/sex/gender/social role/whatever. He's also the first straight boy I've ever been involved with, which makes this the most comfortable/natural/awesome date I've been on. Not that there was much to compare it with besides a few lesbian attempts and one-kiss gay boys.

He's the other Ally in my GSA at school, which means we never had "The Talk" because I was up front about my birth status from the start in that setting. I don't normally cuddle or kiss on the first date, but we've known each other long enough it was bound to happen. We have so much in common we don't have to lie about who we are or twist and conform to fit the other. There was no awkwardness, no anxiety, none of the feelings I've come to associate with dates from my past. This was just right. It's still surprising how easy it was for both of us, but in a really awesome, head-spinning kind of way. We're going out again tonight and I'm ridiculously excited.

I've actually been kind of writer-blocked about him the past few weeks since I couldn't really express myself as he reads this blog! Now I can just be open again and get back to writing what's on my mind. I'll try to keep the romantic emotions to a minimum but forgive this excited little virgin, she's new to this sort of thing.

Questioning

2010-04-20T20:13:00.000-05:00

Although I am outspoken about the effects of my birth status in GLBT settings and in my writing, to most people I remain nothing more than another cisexual woman. In the Trans community we call this "stealth", a term I despise because it implies deception for not wearing a Scarlet "T" across my chest. This is the most common justification of trans hate crimes, The "Tricked into being Gay" Defense.

I won't go into the fallacies of implying transwomen's partners are gay until they complete surgery. I've already discussed it here and I don't want to get sidetracked. What I want to talk about is the misconception that transwomen "become" women. It's not an intentionally damaging belief and I can understand how it happens. After all, our bodies "become" more feminine through wardrobe changes, hormone therapy and surgery; although the gender between our ears has always been consistently female. The danger of the "woman in a man's body" or "man becoming a woman" mentality is the attitude implied by the language; this woman is really a man.

The first day I walked out my front door dressed as the woman I've always been, I had to overcome a lot of mental barriers. I stared into the mirror for half an hour thinking hateful things such as, "You look like a freak. Who would ever believe you're a woman? You will fail and become a victim and you'll have no one to blame but yourself." But as I took the corner and walked past the Mexican crew lunching at the gas station I heard wolf whistles and cat calls for my low-cut top and tight jeans. I should have been offended by their sexualization or maybe complimented by their obvious appreciation. Instead I was irritated at the simplicity of it all. Apply makeup, female clothing and shake well. Instant womanhood. No fuss, no muss.

You would not believe the questions I've been asked by overly curious people who know of my status, most of which are well intentioned but completely inappropriate. "Are your breasts real?" "Have you had surgery yet?" "Aren't you really just gay?" "Do you use the men's or women's bathroom?" You name it and chances are I've had to answer it at some point in my lifetime. "What was your 'real' name?" and "What did you look like?" are quickly followed by, "Why did your parents give you a girl's name?" and the disappointed "You don't even look like a boy."

The frustrating part is dealing with these questions in the GLBT community. In the setting where I should feel most accepted and understood I still end up playing the gender educator. I know they're not intentionally degrading me, but sometimes a little thought before asking might be nice. A good rule of thumb, "Would I ask my mother/sister/aunt/niece this same question?" If the answer is "No" than keep it to yourself and do the research on your own:

http://www.tsroadmap.com/
http://www.transwoman.tripod.com/
http://www.transsexual.org/