Up on the roof
This isn't an actual picture of us, but it's kind of how ridiculous I imagine we are.
Earlier this week, a few friends and I chilled on my apartment roof, drinking wine. It was a beautiful night, and I’ve come to love going up around 9PM, when the sunlight is fading and the stars are beginning to come out. (I’ll try and get a pic one of these days, but I usually only have my phone up with me and it doesn’t do good low-light photography.)
The discussion was pretty wide-ranging, from a male birth control pill (both of my friends were hesitant, but interested) to the appropriate way to play first base (close to the bag, apparently). We also talked about our experiences still being in Chicago (or being back in Chicago) after having grown up in the area, and our various social groups.
Then the topic of my transition came up, I think from of discussing my upcoming show, and it was interesting to hear some perspectives from people who have known me since early high school.
First, it was wonderful to – once again – hear how my friends have made a concentrated effort to respect my name and pronoun choices. They brought up a car ride to my place, right after I’d sent an email to all of my friends asking to be called Rebecca. During the ride, one of them said, “OK, so we all need to do this for him. Her. For Rebecca. This is going to be tough…” But I remember much more of their attempts and successes than their attempts and failures, even though they said they felt like they were constantly failing. That night, we were all sitting around and I said, “You can ask me about that email,” and there was a collective sigh of relief that I was willing to discuss what I was going through and not just put out an edict that could never be mentioned.
Is there anything you can't do, Google Image Search?
But it was also interesting, if difficult, to be asked questions like, “Do you think you’d be presenting differently if you’d left Chicago for college?” or “What’s your queer social group like right now?” Because those are exactly the questions I’ve been asking myself. I was once again reminded that my transition-related issues aren’t unique to being trans: everyone struggles with their identity, particularly during and after college. I was impressed my friends were aware of those issues, though, and struggled through the answers I’ve been putting together in my own head.
Concerning (still) being in Chicago, I do think that I’d have had a different experience experimenting with my presentation were I elsewhere for college. That also links into my thoughts about social groups, because many (although not all) of my friends are from high school, meaning I still see them a lot since we’re all back home. I think that being in a familiar place was comforting when I was stressed about beginning to transition, but it would have been nice to be somewhere I felt less likely to be recognized and judged. (Fortunately I’ve had very little of that, though I was afraid of it.)
Likewise, I really regret not taking the opportunity to transition while really in college – I started at the very tail end – because college allows for some built-in socialization and community in the way post-college life doesn’t. I felt like the socializing I was doing in college, and to some extent in high school, felt somewhat false. My presentation and identity weren’t my own, so I either felt like I was being superficial with people – because they weren’t seeing the “real” me – or feel really vulnerable by outing myself.
One of my friends made the shocking recommendation that I should find some queer groups and go explore the city without my (straight) high school friends. This isn’t shocking because I disagree; it’s actually something I’ve been considering doing anyway. It’s shocking because, again, I hadn’t realized how astute my friends would be when it came to something they readily admit they don’t have a lot of experience with.
"Can Becca come out and play?"
To that end, I’ve been thinking about joining a Women and Children First bookgroup or two (not very scary), maybe looking into some some queer Meetup.com groups (moderately scary), or maybe even just going to one of the queer bars I’ve been told to check out (very scary!). The main point I’m realizing is that I won’t magically develop a queer community or circle of friends unless I make some sort of effort. I think my OKCupid and Craigslist dating has been a good step in that direction, because it sets the bar for success really low: I’m trying to go on dates with women this summer, and by going on dates – whether or not they’re good dates, and whether or not I develop any lasting friendships out of ‘em – I feel like I’m accomplishing something.
Themocracy
I lamented my lack of queer community at the beginning of college. Then I became involved at the LGBT Office, attending events at first but eventually founding and running a club and becoming a paid employee. Those queers are my community now, we graduated a couple months ago but they’re the ones I queer it up with on a daily basis. Your high school friends sound awesome, but you should take their advice and go to queer spaces. That’s where you’ll find the queers.
Most of the LGBT people I know are from my local LGBT youth group. Mabey you could voulenteer at something simmalar.