More Progress in My Transgender Journey
I think I’m getting better at this
The Mirror
Today I looked at myself in the mirror. What I saw wasn’t what most people would immediately conclude was a woman. My chin-length hair, hoop earrings, and flowered top aside, I still have many physical characteristics more typical of men than women. Still, what I saw was a woman.
I have never wanted attention — quite the opposite. I’ve expended considerable energy for most of my life to avoid being noticed. And yet, I go out with my long hair, dangly earrings, necklace, flowery top, women’s jeans, and pink tennis shoes, with a purse slung over my shoulder. I know that my outfit, in combination with my physical characteristics, attracts attention. I am aware of the looks that range from confusion to contempt. I know I am anything but inconspicuous.
I’ve thought a lot about why I do that. Why not just blend in and meet people’s expectations? The simple answer is that dressing as I do has an unmistakable, positive effect on me. The calm I feel is so profound that it outweighs the reactions I might get from anyone else. It overwhelms my natural tendency to blend in. It changes my world.
This hasn’t diminished the deep desire I have to look like a cis woman. Whenever I see a woman in person, on TV, or online, I feel the ache of wanting to be them. I used to think there was something wrong with me because I was obsessed with women’s bodies. Then I came to realize that my interest was entirely non-sexual. I didn’t want to bed them, I wanted to be them. I want to be them.
Still, when I looked at myself in the mirror today I liked what I saw. It is much easier now for me to see the woman in the mirror. I’m fairly certain that I will never pass as a cis woman. Just being accepted as a trans woman is plenty good enough. Accepting myself as a trans woman is good enough.
Forms of Reference
When I told my children that I was a transgender woman, I assured them that I was the same person I had always been and that, in particular, I would always be their father. I told them that if they were most comfortable continuing to call me Dad, that was fine.
One of my children lives in the same city as me. He calls me Dad, although he usually refers to me as his parent when speaking to others, and is very good at using she/her pronouns for me. I recently drove him to a medical appointment. When the male doctor entered the examination room, he called me “ma’am.” Then a little later my son turned to me and said “Dad, do you have any questions?” Shortly after the doctor referred to me as “Dad” too.
I am happy to say that I was fine with that whole exchange. It does give me a little thrill when someone calls me “ma’am,” but it doesn’t upset me when I’m referred to as my son’s dad. I *am* his dad. It’s one of the happiest facts of my life. This dad just happens to be a woman. Being both doesn’t make me less of either.
Mileposts
It’s been less than 3 years since I figured out I was transgender, and a little over a year since I started on hormones. There’s so much more ahead on this journey. It hasn’t been, and won’t be all sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows — there have been sorrows, joys, and a lot of second-, third-, and fourth-guessing. I am, however, still on the road, and I am encouraged by the small signs that say I’m not only on the road but making progress.
Above all, I’m happier than I think I’ve ever been. I’ll take that.
