Moving toward something?

By , May 31, 2010 12:40 pm

Yeah, it's a little cheesey. What do you want from me?

Transitioning, for me, has primarily been an experience of moving away from things. At every stage, I’ve thought about how unhappy I was, not about how things would be better if I did XYZ.

I went into therapy because I was miserable, not because I was particularly sure I could be happy. I went on hormones because presenting and living as male fit me horribly, like an itchy and too-tight outfit, full of pins and needles. Not because I thought I’d succeed as living as a woman. I underwent hair removal because being hairy felt all wrong, not because I thought being smooth would be pleasant.

Fortunately, I was wrong about those things: When I reached whatever minor goal I’d set for myself it was better, not simply “less bad.” But my thought process was still about moving away from things – a false presentation, hiding something, masculinity – not moving toward anything.

I’ve been continuing to think about The Surgery. And I’ve realized that, for the first time in my transition, I’m interesting in moving toward something rather than away.

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Oh father of mine

By , May 29, 2010 9:04 pm

I'm not convinced my father could carry me on his shoulders these days...

Earlier this week, I asked my mom to call my dad. I hate having her act as an intermediary between the two of us, but I wanted to figure out what – if anything – he’d be doing about my hospital bills and insurance since my telling him off. He’s been speaking with the “risk management” department at the first ER I visited, because when I finally got my gallbladder out they strongly implied the first ER should have caught the gallstones.

So my mom called my dad. She said she’d thought things out beforehand, and opened by asking him, “Rebecca asked me to talk to you about the insurance situation, and if you need to return any of the paperwork to her.” (My mom knew he didn’t, as I’d provided him with copies, but wasn’t sure how to say “So are you continuing to help your daughter while refusing to speak to her, or not?” without sound like she was judging him. Which she was, but didn’t want to sound like it.) He replied, “Nope. She’s fine to speak to the hospital herself,” and said goodbye.

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A perspective flip

By , May 28, 2010 3:47 pm

No, I'm not pretending I'm the cute blond in the middle.

A few months ago, I was having dinner with some friends after our circus class. We were chatting about relationships – I was bemoaning my lack thereof – and someone mentioned how her boyfriend was an awkward geek. I said, “Well, as an awkward geek myself, I feel obligated to stand up for my fellow geeks.” Both of my friends turned to me, and simultaneously said something along the lines of, “You’re not awkward. And you may be a geek, but you’re a hot geek.”

I don’t say this to toot my own horn, because I didn’t (and don’t) particularly believe them. But I do bring it up to talk about a perspective flip I’ve had over the course of my transition: I’m now seen as the cool, geeky, girl.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this as I’ve been watching The Big Bang Theory. I think the show is pretty funny, as I’m a sucker for a show that makes good, accurate jokes about comic books, general relativity, Lord of the Rings, particle physics, video games and more. It’s funny even if you don’t get all the references, but their jokes are obviously well researched and even funnier if you know what they’re talking about.

At the same time, the gender relationships of the show are kind of predictable: four smart-but-awkward boys befriend their pretty-but-uneducated female neighbor. And I find myself very torn over who to sympathize with when they butt heads.

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And yet…

By , May 27, 2010 2:57 am

I miss my daddy. I haven’t called him that in twenty years, but that’s who I miss: The man who lifted me on his shoulders, explored forests and streams with me, played shark in the lake. The man for whom I had no doubt of his love.

I think I just broke up with my dad

By , May 26, 2010 11:55 pm

Oh Daffy. He gets so close to understanding where he goes wrong. And then, inevitably, he ends up getting shot in the face.

Just about ten years ago, I came out to my parents. For a long time, that didn’t really mean anything: no changes, no transitioning, just them having the knowledge that I’m trans.

About three years ago, I started on hormones and mark that as the general beginning of my actual transition. While I spent about a year presenting as male some of the time and female some of the time, both of my parents knew I was transitioning and (at some point during that “in between” year)  I had a chat with both of them about wanting to be called Rebecca, and referred to with feminine pronouns.

Last night, my dad – who is attempting to help me with some insurance stuff from having my gallbladder removed – called to ask my about my social security number. “It’s still under [male name], right?”

I paused, surprised he would even ask such a question. “No, I went to the social security office and had it changed.”

“Oh. But do you have a new card?”

Frustrated, I told him, “Yes. A new card. With Rebecca on it. Sitting on my desk at home. Same social security number, different name.”

“Oh, OK.”

It wasn’t until reflecting on the conversation that I realized how upset it made me. After ten years of being out to him, does he not understand how important this is to me? It wasn’t that he wanted to double-check about the name associated social security number. I could understand if he said, “I just wanted to double check that your social security number is under Rebecca now.” Or even, “Hey, what name is on your social security card these days?” I might be a little annoyed, but not really upset or hurt. But the way he did phrase it, assuming it wasn’t important enough to have gotten changed, really made me feel like he still, after all these years, is just as clueless as he was when I came out to him.

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Vector Identity Theory

By , May 25, 2010 9:21 pm

Hi all! This guest post is from Violet, a regular commenter at The Thang Blog and all-around awesome gal. Enjoy!

Hi. I’m Violet. Rebecca has been kind enough to let me have some of her blog space for a guest post, and let me dip my toe carefully into the world of writing for a wider internet audience. Identity-wise, I am a twenty-something white currently-abled trans-female-spectrum genderqueer and sexuality-queer tomboy geek engineer. Except to the extent I’m not. But this post is about identity labels, so bear with me. Rebecca has previously posted about identity labels as keywords here, which I think is awesome, and I wanted to add another different (and geeky) way of looking at them to the discussion. This post is adapted from something I wrote more personally last year.

By “identity labels”, what I mean are nouns and adjectives that you use to describe people — “woman”, “man”, “goth”, “punk”, “masculine”, “feminine”, “trans”, “queer”. These things are useful for communication. Labels can function as a shorthand to tell people about what your life is like. They allow people with attributes in common to find each other and compare notes. I use them a lot.

The problem is that they’re wrong. Or, rather, not quite right. Any time you have an identity, it comes with a pile of stereotyped behaviors that any given claimant of the identity might or might not share, and it tends to reduce the perception of the claimant down to those stereotypes. Oops. (Rebecca, in her keyword post, also got into the possible confining nature of labels imposed by others.)

Now for the geeking out. Don’t worry — if you don’t speak math, I’ll give an example in pictures below.

I often view labels as vectors in some huge or infinite-dimensional vector space. Given a set of labels — say, {male, female} or {straight, queer} or {gay, lesbian, bi, trans, queer, questioning, ally} or whatever — finding out how you identify is a process akin to estimating the projection of your personal self-vector onto the subspace covered by the basis of labels in the set. Of course, that basis is never orthonormal; that would be too clean. It’s not orthogonal or normal at all. It’s just a mess of huge-dimensional vectors that you have to try to match yourself up against, throwing away all those components of yourself that aren’t in directions available to you in that basis. Worse, the self-vector is a function of time. The way you project on to a certain set of labels changes over the course of your life, sometimes even non-continuously. Even the identity labels change over time. Does being a goth mean the same thing now as it did fifteen years ago?

For an example of how my thinking about labels works, people sometimes ask me “are you male or female?” What they mean is usually something like this:

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Glamour

By , May 24, 2010 11:10 pm

Am I allowed to read this?

While I was in the hospital, my mom brought me a little care package. It had a stuffed bear, a silly coloring book, and a copy of Glamour.

The stuffed bear lived next to me on my bed. The coloring book was, well, colored in. And the Glamour was put into my bag of things, hidden away from sight.

It’s not because I didn’t want to know about “25 Times I’m Irresistible to Him (And Don’t Even Know It).” Or “My Top 10 Tricks for Sexy Hair!” Or even “59 Cute, Casual Outfits That Look Good On Everyone.” I mean, who wouldn’t want to know all those things?

It was because I wasn’t sure if I would be looked down upon for reading it.

Would the nurses think I was immature? Would my friends think I was silly? Would my visitors think I was….girlie?

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Sunbathing!

By , May 23, 2010 11:52 pm

Lets pretend my bathing suit made me look like this.

Today was a beautiful, sunny, breezy, 90-degree day in Chicago. My roommate and I took advantage of the weather to sunbathe on the roof. (I think I’ve mentioned this before, but we have awesome landlords.)

I actually found a halter bikini top I like, so didn’t feel like a total fat blob, along with the bikini-bottom-underneath-short-trunks for a bottom. This marks, I think, the first time I’ve ever felt comfortable in a bathing suit. In my life. FTW! (No, you don’t get pictures. Neener neener neener.)

Unfortunately, CVS’s “Continuous Spray Sunblock” fails on all of its advertised features: It does not spray, it particularly does not spray continuously, and it only blocks the sun intermittently. Hence I have a dinner-plate sized burn on my tummy and boobs, as I enjoyably but regrettably chose to sunbathe topless. Which felt great at the time, but is now itchy and pink. (There’s a visual for ya!) Though, honestly, most of where I’m burnt wouldn’t have been covered my the top, so I don’t feel too much regret over my choice.

In any event, I’m sunburnt. (Sunburned? Sunned burn?) I have a sunburn. Summer is finally here!

Sex and sensibility: thinking about attraction

By , May 20, 2010 3:04 pm

The obligatory 'queer sexuality' symbol

A while back, beo_shaffer asked how I feel (sexually) about “people with non-binary gender [and] about other transsexuals?” I’ve been thinking a lot about it since then, and realized I don’t have a quick-and-easy answer. So I’m going to use this post to talk about beo’s question, but also to more broadly consider my own sexuality.

I identify as a lesbian. And I think, to some extent, that means I’m saying that binary genders are important to me sexually. Or, at the very least, that I perceive people within binary gender categories, even though politically I don’t think we should see people that way and it’s something I’ve tried to overcome when I notice myself doing it.

At the same time, I do find the idea of penetration to be a turn on. I know penetration is not an inherently heterosexual act, but I’ve been exposed to 25+ years of heteronormative culture and I do associate the two to some extent. While I’m coming to understand a much wider (and healthier) concept of sexuality – one not so penis-in-vagina-centric – most erotica I’ve read has been heterosexual. Mainly because I can’t find reliably good lesbian erotica. (Suggestions welcome!) And while I’ve never found a specific man to be attractive, the theoretical idea of being with a man sexually is interesting to me. (Probably due in no small part to the copious amounts of erotica I’ve read over the years…)

To put it another way, I feel like I’d probably be a five on the Kinsey Scale – I could imagine having fun in a heterosexual sexual experience, but it’s not what primarily ‘does it’ for me.

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Important Girl Skill #473

By , May 19, 2010 12:49 pm

Is there a merit badge for transitioning?

Apparently the left-over testosterone in my system is blocking two important girl-skills:

  1. I rarely notice when a friend gets a haircut, unless it’s pretty dramatic
  2. I can’t remember where and when I purchased every single item in my wardrobe

I’m told that, of the two, #1 is less forgivable.

This is one of those things that I’m not sure how to ‘fix.’ I’m learning (slowly) how to put on makeup. I’m getting better at seeing what outfits work together. (Though my date outfit from last night was the result of my roommate vetoing what I was going to wear.) I’m having tons of fun making and wearing jewelry. I’d even say I’m slowly adjusting my voice to something that feels more feminine and ‘right’ for me.

But all of those are things that, to one extent or another, you can practice.

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