"I'm fine with you being, whatever the fuck you are."
Recently I have felt more comfortable wearing my packer around, with and without my binder. It's very comfortable for me to wear something on the top of my groin. I've only weirded a couple people out when I took off my jacket and my chest became more obvious.
Also lots of trans* stuff has been happening. I went to a Queer film screening at a local book shop last night, I was correctly mistaken for a "bro" at the bus stop the other night, I found myself swiping gay magazines from the LGBTQ center in town, and over the weekend I met two lovely women in the beginnings of transition! That feels like a lot to me.
The transwomen were my favorite. Real geeks, programmers, introverts, shy but passionate, we stayed up late to talk about issues of identity and mislabeling, how to come out to misunderstanding family, and how to move to a more liberal town because of it. They reminded me of a younger version of me, not yet identifying as trans* or queer, but confused and awed by the idea of an actual transition! Actually presenting as a preferred gender to the entire world, taking hormones and contemplating body modification to improve passability, and imagining the day we will feel comfortable in our own skin. It was inspiring and thrilling and I felt like I knew a lot more than I did. I at least sounded like I knew about transition, as if I were actually in the midst of it (though I am not). We became fast friends and continue to interact online, their preferred method of communication anyway, and it is a happy beginning to a beautiful transition. Hard, as transition is, but only the beginning.
On Wednesday I ventured out of the house having used up all of productive paper pushing energies, expecting to end up contorting my body in ways I have not yet done before at a qigong class led by a transman. Instead when I arrived at the LGBTQ center I got a text from my roommate (the one who told me of the event) that it had been canceled. I confirmed with the guy at the front desk and wandered around a little, picking up magazines I am interested to write for and eyeing the basket of condoms. When you are involved with LGBTQanything, there are ALWAYS buckets of condoms. Always. And lube. Lots of lube. Unfortunately there weren't any female condoms, the rare delicacies they are, but it's still fun to throw condoms around the house and blow condom balloons for guests.
I got the bright idea to ask if the center took my newly purchased health insurance and left the building delighted that they indeed do! Back story: I had contacted this particular institution months earlier under a difference insurance company which in fact did not have a relationship with the LGBTQ center, and so I am scheming up all kinds of things to do with my government subsidized insurance.
At the bus stop one night, bundled up with my oversized snow coat and man boots, an ushanka covering over 50% of my head, I saw a young man exit the bus and roll over to the shelter asking about which buses had since passed. He shouted in my general direction, "Hey bro! Do you know if the 82 came? Oh! I mean ma'am, sorry."
To which I replied, "Actually I prefer bro." He took it as an invitation to approach me and start a conversation.
He started with, "So you like girls, huh?" I went along with it. "Does that mean you want to get a penis?" he said in a whispered tone, delighted with this secret. "Would you cut off your, you know, your chest?"
I had never been so offended yet amused before in my life. This man was probably in his early twenties, in a wheel chair, black, and missing his left leg. He looked up at me as if he had known me for a long time, glancing over to see my expression every so often. I gave him my attention from over my shoulder, trying to hide what might be detected as breasts. He pressed on and I gave him short sentence answers. "Yes. Perhaps. I'm not sure. Yeah, hah."
He went on talking about whether I take it or give it, referencing heteronormative sexual positions. I joked that he could probably do some pretty interesting maneuvers himself, not having too many legs to get in the way. He welcomed my own curiosity about how he lost it and his own sexual interests. It was a short lived conversation, rapid fire question and answer until my bus came. It felt more respectful than it actually may have been, him recognizing my gender preference and talking to me like a regular guy, as regular guys do, about women. That is something I actually really enjoy. Talking about women. So all was fair and enjoyable, objectifying women aside.
The last few days I haven't been able to catch my preferred ten hours of sleep; a couple work shifts here and there, some networking opportunities pursued via phone, coffee shop, and movie night. Last night I saw a documentary about LGBTQ films and was drawn into the content about trans* films, the short side note they were. It was at a bookstore that could have been called indie, selling first and second hand books, accepting book donations and serving vegan snacks. The film was projected to a basement full of people of all faces crowded enough to have a cuddle party and two pots of popcorn floating around. I set my container of mixed nuts off into the crowd as well, (I LOVE sharing food!) and when the film ended I realized I'm actually really tired and need to update my blog. I also need to look at that film again for reference to all the other great gay films I've been missing out on since the early 40's.
Gay media has always interested me. As has nudity and dance. The human form is amazing in all its glory, but gay material specifically speaks to me in a way far deeper than it may for the average individual. It was stated in the film as well, that gay films tend to not only speak to the LGBTQ community, but they represent the LGBTQ community, telling their stories and setting a script by which many LGBTQ members desperately cling to for guidance and comfort. Sex scenes especially serve a special purpose for those same folks, showing that something which has historically been shunned in conservative families and institutions and showing that it is normal and healthy and fun, and that it can, should and will be done despite criticism and skepticism.
Trans*ness has also been shown on the silver screen as something that people do, but I always feel like it is received in a very different way, as if it is something that receives constant flak from all sides of the universe, including internally. Often trans* people die in films, and are ostracized, or are disturbed and confused and hurting on the inside. While this may or may not be true for some folks, I have seen the opposite in my immediate community, finding trans* and queerness to be a rather unique and celebrated theme, and the individuals who self identify to be happy for their friends and family and uniqueness. And that is difficult, to separate reality from fantasy, to celebrate unique identity in the media and to appropriate expectations in the appropriate circles.
Trans* individuals are often thought to be a minority which are unhappy and who desperately seek release, either through taking destructive paths or immediately medical ones. I have found my life to reflect neither of these, although I am not actively seeking transition. I also find myself to be misrepresented in the media as confused and awkward and troubled, at least from non-queer producers and writers and allies. This frustrates me to a point where I look upon media with a different lens, analyzing it as if I were observing other individuals' lives, taking advice and interesting points where applicable, but dismissing the message as a whole as if it were somebody else's story, someone I would like to study but could not become myself.
I would like to take advantage of this gap between reality and fantasy and point out to everyone that every person is unique. Every gay person, every straight person, every queersexual, bisexual, pansexual, intersex, boy girl, girl boy, transanything, every person is different. What you see in the media is not what is true of every person who identifies as that noun. Even I am different than all other queer folks, and this blog is not representative of anyone but me. And because of this, I feel the need to explore queer topics, not only with myself, but with other people, to give them the opportunity to see a new perspective on a common theme, and to offer myself as an example of one way to go about being queer.
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