Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Out of the Closet and Into the Stealth

I honestly feel like its a catch 22--being transgender. To be more precise, being openly transgender is a catch 22. To be honest, I really don't want to be viewed as transgender.  Not one bit.

That's where there's a big gap between the LGB and the T in the LGBT community, because most of us---especially those of us that already went through years of puberty in the wrong direction (not so much the younger generation of trans people)--are never really O.K. with being born trans. Because no matter the situation, whether people are being nice or hateful, as soon as people find out you are trans, they treat you differently.

You're either an amazing spectacle, or you are a freak.  And this is not because of your feelings and actions, per se, it is simply because of your body and what lay under your skirt. You're either so much more interesting because of it, or you're so much more disgusting. Simply because of the physical traits of your body, which--because you are afflicted by gender dyphoria--you yourself hate being reminded of.

So yes, I'm proud that I got over what I consider to be a birth defect, but I'm not super proud to say "Yes, I'm trans" (unless it's on social media and preceded by a little pink heart--and even then I am careful). Being trans is not an accomplishment by itself. Getting over it is an accomplishment. Just like someone getting over the fact that they are paralyzed from the waist down.

LGBT. The average person doesn't really stop to think that they lumped a legitimate medical problem in with a bunch of sexual orientations--which aren't problems at all. And because of this, many people look at being transgender on speculative grounds, with an eye for either intrigue or horror, and with all these opinions, instead of empathy.

I just view myself as a woman and that's how I live my day to day life. Nobody at work knows I'm trans, and I'm happy to keep it that way so that I am not crushed, either by a blow to the head, or by a sudden change in how my friends and acquaintances  treat me, and the topics they choose to talk to me or ask me about. The real truth is that trans people should be sooner lumped in with women who suffer from PCOS or other people with serious reproductive and hormonal problems, than the with the LGB community. Then people might better understand the issue.  But we are where we are because it just is how people view it, and it is the driving force that's getting us recognized. So here we are: The "T" in the LGB. And if we don't use that plug now and put ourselves out there while the iron's hot, the people suffering from gender dysphoria may never be accepted by our society. Yes that kinda says something sad about society, but that's totally off-topic.

Yes, before a transgender person transitions, he or she must often come out of the closet, much the same way a gay person does. But if a gay man coming out of the closet is actually them saying, "Uh huh, I am a man, I've been living in my manly closet, but I actually like other men;" Then a trans women is, in effect, saying, "Yes, I look like a man, I've been hiding in my manly closet, but I am actually a woman and I'm going to redecorate this nasty place."

However, whenever you find yourself in one of those situations where you explain that you are trans, and people start treating you differently because of it, you discover that, yes, you may have redecorated, but you still don't really feel at home with the doors being flung open like that. You can't get away from neither the pandering nor the hate. And you can't really even decide which is worse. You don't wanted to be reminded that you redecorated, you just want to enjoy your new home. Going back inside is actually safer and simpler at this point. So you shut the door and live out your life in feminine peace and quiet--and thus we get the concept of stealth mode.

And if you don't know what stealth is, I'm not going to explain it. Just Google "transgender stealth".