25 | He/Him | Masc Trans NB | Certified Dumbass | Supposedly an Adult
So I still get ma'am from time to time while I'm working. And I realize it's because of my face shape. Being a bit overweight doesn't help (fat people have to perform gender more to look less androgenous yada yada). But I think I e figured out something. Unfortunately not in mitigating getting called ma'am, but with being okay with it.
I had a guy today say "thank you sir" then he stuttered, corrected himself incorrectly to "ma'am" and apologized. I was perturbed by it, it actually made me chuckle, because as a nonbinary person who only conforms to gender stuff to get a better response, confusing the shit out of a dude is amusing beyond belief. But it reminded me that the way I am viewed is innately more masculine. Even if they clock my AGAB. That ma'am did not mean he saw me as some little girl, definately not someone super femme, but in more of a butch way. Which, I probably get gender envy from butch women more than I ever have before. So is it so bad to catch a ma'am every once in a while?
Obviously I'm doing gender gymnastics on my head about this, but it's refreshing to come out with "huh, that's not too terrible? Maybe a tiny but heartwarming even" instead of microanalyzing why one would perceive me as female and how do I prevent it in the future?
It also helps that the guy who was buying from me was sweet and seemed like he was genuinely trying to be respectful, but as with anyone, it's impossible to know for sure with anyone non-cis.
Every so often I get feelings of a certain brand of femininity and it's hard not to relate to that on terms of gender when you're a trans person, but it does get me thinking that if I had been cis, I'd want to explore femininity and expressions of it more seriously. It captivates me thinking about it. If I had been read as male the entire time and I had the chance to subvert those inherent expectations... God, the kind of person I could have been....
But instead I had to get to this point to get to that one (and I still have a ways to go). I've not had the ability to explore femininity on my own terms. I had to have femininity spoiled for me, ruined by the shoddy expectations society gives women and girls and having them pushed into me for my entire childhood (who's to say if cis women get to explore femininity on their own terms either. Definately not me, but that's also a fun thought)
Like, I know my existence was bound to push the envelope of the current worlds societal expectations, no matter what. Maybe I think that because I'm a product of lived experiences and I couldn't imagine not being a radicalized person. Maybe fictional, alternate universe cis me wouldn't grind against the grain like I do. Maybe he'd have gone with the flow and not question like I've had to. Or is it fated that he also walk a radical path, different but inherently parallel to mine.
It's still me, after all.
Well thats a new one.
When I was picking up my prescriptions the pharmacist assumed I couldn't be the female patient the prescriptions were for (yay for passing????) and starting talking to me like I was picking up the meds for someone else. I didn't have the time or the mind to offer a correction since I was actively confused so I just... had a conversation about myself in the third person??? Very wild way to get misgendered for sure.
My OBGYN's office just called me to tell me they're ready to schedule my hysterectomy and that insurance seemed chill with it. Absolutely stoked to yeet away these awful organs.
My gender is "oblivious lack thereof" when I'm not thinking about it. When I'm thinking about it, it's not because I want to or are trying to and at that point my gender is "dysphoria (panicked)" or "dude (semi-content) with various in betweens.
Sometimes I fight between "don't remind me about gender (surprised)" and "having the gender I chose being respected feels very very nice (surprised, but euphoric)" when gendered. I really wish it wasnt something I noticed when I am gendered. People will literally talk about me in front of me and I'll have to do a double take, spit out my tea and go "me? Me the he? A sir?????" Because they're right, I am, but somewhere in my brain I still can't comprehend that these people have only ever known me as such. Why would they do any differently? It means so much to me and I have no good way of nicely expressing how much I love them for a thing that should just be normal?
If I dont understand my gender, no one else gets to either >:(
My binders finally got here!! Im going to wait until husbot wakes up to take pictures so i can use not a bathroom mirror to show it off a bit.
I will say im much more aware of my posture now for some reason? Also its super weird to look down and not have a tiddy there, let alone two!!!star-rice
Man, the posture thing was so nice. I sometimes want to put mine back on because sitting up straight is so much easier, but I know that wont fix the core of my problem: my lack of core strength.
Still laughing at my pharmacist.
So my testosterone comes in little tiny vials. Previously, my weekly dose used to be exactly half the bottle. So they'd give me a months supply of two bottles. A while back my dose was upped to about 3/4 of a bottle. Prescription was listed as "use required dose then throw remainder out" which even my prescribing physician was like "yeah uhuh 'throw it out' wink wink hint hint." Which, yeah, given the whole universe and particularly the uncertainty of healthcare in the U.S., this was a great developement.
But what I found funny recently was an interaction I had with my pharmacist.
I'm very aware he's just trying to make the conversation short and doesn't want to go into the whole "i legally need you to discard the rest of your medication as per the instructions" so he gave me a (false) factoid that I can't argue with because he's the pharmacist. But I still find it so funny.
The vials between upping my dose have not changed at all. They've been the same the whole time. If I were to take "they're not sterile anymore" at face value, I should rightly have more questions since double dipping into a bottle was what I was required to do previously. The blatant lie to my face just gets me, even though it changes nothing about the situation in the slightest.
So far I have been incredibly happy with my transitioning efforts but I dream of one day not looking like a grease-ball after one (1) day of not showering.
tonight was a night of gender fuckery and I was giddy. someone called me sir to get my attention, I turned around, then they said sir again and then hesitantly ma'am, then got real apologetic cause they couldn't figure out which to call me cause my hair is real short and I just said it was fine
my fucking grin behind my mask was massivestar-rice
I know that grin well and its the best fucking shit in the world holy fuck. Anytime I can genuinely confuse someone its great.
Like ah yes, this is what you get for trying to gender me. For once it is not I being burdened by the gendering.
I'm about to commit murder and the mixer is on myself in the form of cutting out my uterus. It probably bleed less from that whole procedure than the amount of bleeding I'm doing right now. Arguably less painful.
If I ever needed and motivation to never ever go off hrt this is it. I fucking thought this was gonna be relatively light because no way my body had time to get there whole damn shebang back up and running. I was so wrong.
I don't even think I bleed bled this much even before I started hrt. But that might be my brain being figure from all the beautiful time I've spend period-less.
Violently need this ibuprophen to kick in before I carve my uterus out a year early with a spoon.star-rice
"is next year the year you're going to carve that thing out for real?"
If I have anything to say about it, it will be. Firstly, next year is going to be the last year I can keep my parents insurance (my Dad has good coverage through his work) since I'll be turning 26 the following year (which, a few things about that*). Secondly, I'd get it out sooner but said insurance requires that I be on HRT for 2 years before chopping it out.
(read more bc this really is a do or... well, not die, but it'd be a corner I dont want to be in)
*Now back to this insurance shit. I definately want to get this done before I am (pretty much) required to switch insurance. I have no clue who I'd have to go with, if I'll have to swap around doctors, what the new regulations of the new company would require if they'd even give a damn about covering my transition at all. I know what hoops I have to jump through with my current insurance. A new insurance company (one I will likely not have any choosing power over, since its very expensive to get insurance outside of your work) might not even give me hoops to jump through, they'll just flat out tell me they wont cover it and I definately cannot finance that shit on my own. I'll already have a tough enough time making sure I have the finances cover my copays/what my insurance doesn't pay for and make sure I have a bit put back to recover on (since we dont get medical leave and I'd need to take time off).
With a new insurance company, I know I can swing paying mostly out of pocket for my testosterone, if it was just my testosterone. If I can't keep the doctor who's managing my HRT, my OBGYN told me day one she'd take over if need be (she mostly just needed someone to get me started). Testosterone on its own is relatively inexpensive, its the doctors appointments that'd be the kicker.
Anyway, yeah, needless to say, I'm going to do my damnedest to make sure I get this hell organ removed next year. I need to. Its not just about me hating it, not wanting to get pregnant, never wanting to experience a period again or even dysphoria/related issues. It could delay that surgery for years.
Good bless my dad still being lovely and healthy enough at 60 to teach me the shit I should've been learning a billion years ago and having the time to spend creating those "getting dirty with your child working in cars" memories.
I'm 24 doing this transitioning shit and dad's so incredibly scripting and realizing the shit we missed out on when I was younger (whether related to my gender garbage, my overwhelming depression as a teenager or him morning the most fucked hours even to this day). Now I'm an adult and we can help each other through these moments. He had the knowledge and confidence to teach me and I have the patience and energy to assist and learn.
-gets misgendered at work-
FINE. I'll put on my goddamn name tag!!
Under the cut bc talk about dr appointment, afab anatomy and anxiety.
Worst part being though? When you can actively recognize that theres nothing to be anxious about. Like you get anxiety over the thing and you logic your way into "oh yeah, no, the anxiety makes no sense. I am completely safe. I don't need to worry about this." and still the physical symptoms continue and you're still on edge.
For example, pulling out of my spot at the dr office, a car was behind me, but the car next to me was obscuring my view of the driver. They were just sitting there, I thought they would just drive past me but were stopped bc they saw my reverse lights come on, so I wait obscenely long for them to go past.
They were waiting for me to pull out and leave bc they wanted my spot and eventually they just get pissed with me and go somewhere else. I got lots of anxiety about this for a moment until I soothed myself with "dude, you can drive away. You dont have to see or talk to these people ever. Its cool. Making stupid mistakes is not the end of the world. Its not an indicator of your overall person. It's not even a data point on a graph indicating a trend. It ain't that fuckin deep." But still I had to have that thought process at all instead of shrugging it off and not thinking anything of it. My brain immediately went to "oh fuck im fucking up gdi" instead of "oh, well how the fuck should I have known?" You know, the process where you don't immeidately blame yourself?
Anyway, just repeat that like 7 times over to varying degress and thats been my morning.
IF ONE OF MY OLD DUDE REGULARS WHO LOOKS 85 I SWEAR, DRIVES A CONSTRUCTION ORANGE COLORED MUSTANG, WEARS RACER BACK TANK TOPS, IS CONSTANTLY EXERCISING AND I, SWEAR TO GOD, WEARS GLASSES THAT RESEMBLE TRIANGLE SHADES CAN CALL ME SIR AFTER HAVING WATCHED ME TRANSITION VERY GRADUALLY (AND TIP ME, A DUDE WHO JUST WORKS AT A GAS STATION) THE REST OF YOU FUCKERS HAVE NO EXCUSE.
(Proper casing below the cut for an easier read)
Art I made for Trans Day of Visibility! Keep existing. Keep living.
So i was thinking about that Piano Man post on tumblr (the one where its suggested you listen to the song as if he's playing in a gay bar and he's just super oblivious to the fact that its a gay bar) and decided I'd give the song a listen because I hadn't really heard it in a while (or at least really sat down to pay attention to it).
Firstly, the tumblr post is right, it is super entertaining to think of it all that way. It all works out quite nicely and you can run with these assumptions unhindered by any lyrics in the song.
(under the cut bc I get a little rambly (a way I haven't really been in a long while) and I break down some heteronormativity and indulge in gay fantasy)
From the perspective of said piano man (not through our queer lense) we're supposed to understand that this song is about people finding stability and togetherness through their (very different but) shared struggles and circumstances. This is what the Piano man is seeing and thats why he's here offering his music as a way to encourage that (and its implied he's also like them despite offering none of the anecdotal evidence for himself as he does the other bar occupants). They ask "dude what are you doing here" and he plays dumb for them because that outsider perspective is hard to give to one of the participants.
Putting on the queer lense throws a bit of that out the window (unless you want to read it as, he is somehow seeing all these deep connections but his mind is so heteronormative that he can't see the very very obvious one, which i get is also a mood for dealing with straight society, but I like to have more faith in our author than that for me to truely vibe with it unironically). Its a little different if you assume the author intended for this queer lense and wrote the piece in just this way as to appeal to the primarily straight audience (but still wiggle in the intended nuance for a non-hetero audience). Which is very not unheard of at all. For example: Queen, Elton John (any queer performers that got extremely popular before 2005). If you wanna take the comparison to a different subject, say race, look at any "black media" that is there for an audience of poc, but needs to cater to its white audience most of the time for its existence to even be possible (Fresh Prince, Cosby Show, Family Matters, the list is very long). Star Trek is also similar in this way (ie, aliens as a metaphor for racism, but theyre aliens so its just not literal enough to pass through the filter imposed on most widely distributed media.) The question on if Piano man fits this is a matter of 1) - asking Billy Joel, really or, for me 2) - pondering if the, imo, deeper message worth obscuring (because sure, queer people can be at a gay bar for all these same reasons, but the end take away for the audience of "he is actually like them" doesn't apply as much) so you can make fun of straight men while endearing this gay fantasy.
Now, I am not seriously insinuating that you cannot both A) - enjoy the """intended""" reading of the song and simultaneously B) - jest about this alternate comedic lense for pure queer enjoyment. I'm actively doing both. I just wanted to ramble a bit about a sort of "what if it was an intended reading of this media" and why that sort of falls short (sadly). Because oh what if that was the intended reading. But its Billy Joel, he wasn't exactly known for being a bi-icon. Its just the very titilating habit of lgbtq+ peeps taking straight media and repurposing it because we often have a lack of represention for ourselves so we gotta make our own or twist popular media to make it more enjoyable/relatable.
Because come on, its very very funny imagining this peppy dude having a crush on our main man and him continually buying him drinks not because he provides a very endeared service for the bar (as is implied), but because he's pining and the place that he'd rather be is at either of their houses being gay together and thats why its killing him and thats why the smile ran away from his face. He knows its just a fantasy. How fucking goddamn relatable is that, especially in the time this was written (1973), where being gay wasn't nearly as common and usually not even a thought for people who're straight and used to everything being heteronormative as far as they know.
FINALLY GOT THE OK TO STAB MYSELF AGAIN. WOO HOOstar-rice
"got scared until i read the tags"
Yeah. I usually refer to it as getting stabbed or shooting myself. Its a long running joke for my friends and family. Especially with my family since used to occassionally look after my aunts cat who had diabetes and needed shots. We playfully shouted "Time to go shoot the cat!" whenever leaving for said errand.
FINALLY GOT THE OK TO STAB MYSELF AGAIN. WOO HOO
One year later.
What We Inherit: and what we find on mountainsemlyn-scribbles
Ceris was born to blood.
Blood followed her, and she fascinated
in its scarletry, its metal tang.
Her mother oozed it from her lips and
Dirt masked her body.
She smothered herself in imitation,
Her mother, after all, could
grow crops on her skin.
Sometimes rains stormed from her and
her mother would answer with thunder.
So Ceris rained in secret.
The soil was heavy on her:
clodded clay in clumsy arrangement,
a fen where nothing could grow.
Sometimes she would lift her head
from the roots and their bustling
and scrape herself to the tip of a mountain.
From here she could see the fields below,
the landscape laid out -
so small, and wasn't that comforting?
And here she could pick
at her clay coating.
He could wear the sky instead,
billowing out from his shoulders.
Haloed by the moon,
the were-man can become.
He gives his blood to the earth
and returns his name to the rocks.
He takes new names -
from the trees, the mountains,
the screaming sun.
They invented lunacy to spurn the moon.
And if sometimes the sun's children
cry his blood-written name
he simply looks.
And does not swallow their blood.
And does not swallow.
i know ppl aren't obligated to educate others and whatnot but personally it warms my heart when my cis friends come to me like 'hey i have a question about trans stuff'
i essentially have an open door policy with my friends and a no judgement policy where they can ask me pretty much whatever and i'll answer to the best of my ability without being like 'woah what the fuck' so long as i'm in the headspace to do so at the moment and if i'm not i'll be like 'hold that thought i'll come back to it when i feel better'
because the world is a Transphobic Cissexist Fuck and frankly i'm just so happy that my friends are willing to learn and also respect me enough to come to me with their questionscjadewyton
I feel this!!
Sometimes my mum asks me questions that would get heaps of backlash if she asked online, but her intent is 100% genuine and she’s just trying to understand what my wife and I are experiencing, and there’s no reason to condemn her for not understanding some of the basics when all she wants is to be supportive
And once she learnt the terminology she was able to start looking it up herself! But she couldn't do that before she knew the terms.
Sometimes stupid questions need to be asked before you can get to the not-so-stupid questions and that's okay!!
My room mate uses me as a reference and resource for understanding any discourse he comes across online, and I too share this sentiment. He'll often open up with "this may sound dumb/uneducated/ignorant/bat/etc, but I have a legit question" in which I'll respond with "ask your question and I'll let know if it's any of those things". And honestly? I appreciate that he's okay with being wrong about a thing enough to try and inform himself. I think too many people are afraid of offending others to the point that they stay unenlightened to things. But it's okay to admit we're not born all knowing. Hell, as a person who is 15 different shades of queer, I'm wrong and often insensitive all the time about things I should probably know better about, but if we just stop interacting with people and things, we'll never grow. Things will stagnate and become hostile at their mention.
Queerness has a long history of being open about things for so many reasons. Those reasons (which I could write an essay on, but I haven't the time) will always outweigh the vulnerability it lends to us. Our community so often wears it's hearts on its sleeve because it is through our hearts that we can teach and explore the world around us. Even if that means our hearts and identities are easier targets.
loud opinion time.
afab/amab language needs to fuckin die esp when using it in application to trans/nb people.
its a bullshit sneaky way to either:
a. forcibly gender someone who's nb/force the label of a person's ""real"" gender on them, or
b. find out what "parts" someone may have, & if you aren't their doctor or a potential sexual partner then its none of your goddamn business.star-rice
(not at all trying to argue bc you and your feelings are fucking valid as hell dude <333)
I will agree that so many assholes need to sit the hell down and stop giving a fuck about gendering me and my existence (esp future and present, but its so taxing when people gender past me too bc dude fuck off. Who gave you the right).
But I find agab language functional for a few things like talking about societies transgression against me based on their assignment of gender which can and does wildly change a person's life experiences (unless the parents have made active efforts to let their children experience as little forced gender experiences as possible).
I can say that, being afab (regardless of my physicallity then and now) shaped a lot of experiences growing up. I can go up to anyone and use that language to convey to them my past without misgendering myself. I don't have to say "I grew up a girl". It allows me to assert that "I didn't choose that, it was assigned to me. And it most definitely doesn't reflect my current gender expression". But it's only useful if I've already 'outed' myself. It only works if the party im talking to isnt being malicious and transphobic. So I have to watch out and continually patrol my boundaries to make sure they're not taking advantage of my openness and mistaking it for weakness. It requires I be strong and aggressively pro-me. Assuming the party im speaking with isn't trusted, anyway. Agab language depends heavily on whos using it and for what purpose as to whether it can be spun around and hurt the people it's meant to give benefit.
I wonder if there's better language we could be putting to use that allows the same freedom as agab, but not nearly as vulnerable (or if we should just keep it to situations it can't be taken advantage of). Ideally, fuckers wouldn't pry into using it against people, but society as a whole needs more time to understand queer boundaries and etiquette (and to weed out the malicious asshats).