I’ve often thought of those who have difficulty passing and I really don’t know what to say or do about it.
I have sympathy, compassion, for them, but then I think that many might be insulted by my, "pity" I think many would call it. So I rarely mention the subject.
I was a pretty boy. I had no brow ridges or thick jawbone or any of that kind of thing. I just took estradiol and, in several months...poof! It’s a girl! After a few years and learning counter tenor for my voice, I had no problem passing.
The paranoia stuck around for a while after, but gradually faded. I decided that I would just assume that everyone could easily see that I was trans and just not even worry about it. When I met someone new and mentioned,in passing, that I was trans, or was talking and said something like, “when I was a little boy”, and they were shocked (!)…. I was shocked!…that they were shocked! Hahaha!
These days, thirty years later, I’ve decided that, since I am now a confirmed Vagetarian 💜🌈🙏🏼,(lesbian), I no longer wear a bra,(just a B cup), wear jeans and a t-shirt and a ball cap.(no makeup of course).
Yesterday, despite my voice, a cab driver called me, "sir". I said, "I’m not angry or anything, but I’m just curious about why you called me "sir"?”
He said, "Well, I think that people should just be allowed to be who they want to be,(shrug)."
I couldn’t help but chuckle. He thought I was a transman!
It was really a nice encounter. It tells me that, even in eastern North Carolina, people are becoming more accepting of all sorts of people.
That’s nice, encouraging, to see.
I was going to the bank, because I accidentally left my debit card in the pocket of a pair of shorts and dried them on high heat. The card came out wrinkled and won’t go into the ATM thingy.
I had to go to the bank to get some cash.
I don’t want to wait for a new card so I just use this one, as the chip still works for buying stuff in a store...
I suppose that, after a very full life with very varied experiences, at 63, it all seems pretty unimportant to me. Mistakes of pronouns and such are no more than mildly humorous to me now.
I don’t mean to make light of "baby trans" angst. I very much remember the existential anxiety and fear that nearly consumed me those decades ago. I remember the suicide attempts. I remember.
I suppose my message is that it gets easier with time.
The only constant in life is change.
Feelings such as anxiety and fear don’t last forever. Things change, whether we want them to or not.
As long as there’s definitely change coming anyway, we might just as well work, every day, to change for the better, in the *here and now*, the only time that we can ever actually do anything.
It’s going to be just fine in the end. Believe that, because it’s true.
I’ve been enjoying your writing. Please keep it up?
Peace Love Kindness Respect the more you give the more you get 😍 start with yourself 😉 because you deserve it ❤️🙏🏼 (you really do. I promise.)
--weezi--💜🌈🙏🏼🦄🥳🎉🥰❣️🌻😁