CREATIVE NON-FICTION

Almost Nobody Called Me “Ma’am” Until I Came Out as a Trans Man

Why do people need to affirm my “womanhood” now?

Photo by David Salafia (CC BY-ND 2.0) A man with a cowboy hat opened the door for me and called me ma’am shortly before I realized I was a trans man. It was the first time I can remember being called “ma’am”.

CW: Gendered perceptions of childbirth and sex from a trans man’s perspective; misgendering; dysphoria

It’s easy for me to understand that people who misgender my wife are assholes. It’s obvious that they’re a beautiful high-powered femme. Their makeup is more on point than I’ve ever managed across decades of performing femininity in my own search for love and safety. They have more skill with eyeshadow than most cis women. They’re almost always seen wearing bright, colorful silky blouses and skirts that perfectly match the day’s purse, sunglasses, and shoes.

Anyone who fails to recognize that they are all woman is just being ugly.

Recognizing that people who misgender me are assholes is a bit harder. I have more empathy for people who misgender me than for those who misgender my wife. Yeah, I have short hair, but lots of women do, too. I have developing muscles, a fairly flat chest, and a patchy beard when I don’t shave, like some women. I wear t-shirts and men’s jeans and shoes, like some women. My voice is lowering, but women who smoke a lot have that, too. There’s some evidence that I’m on testosterone to supplement my…