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Anticipating the loss of male acceptance
Jun. 4th, 2007 06:47 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
anima-engine.livejournal.comCicero would be appalled with this entry. Pardon. I try to avoid making "dream posts" (because I generally hate reading them), but this one perfectly illuminates what I am feeling and worrying about right now. I will do my best to make it a worthwhile read. Thank you.
Last night I dreamt that a MTF transgender conference was taking place at a local college. All of the TG women I admire were there. I was eager to attend, but the doorman at the entrance of the auditorium denied me admittance. He politely explained that all attendees were supposed to be "trans only", assuming that I was not trans because I was dressed en homme. In my best femme voice, I pleaded with him to look beyond my appearance and let me in. He did, but only after warning me to "stay at the back" and "not to make a scene".
The conference was a small affair. About 30 transwomen chatted with one another on a circular arrangement of wooden benches. I entered the room quietly and tried to blend into the background. This did not work. Every pair of eyes regarded me as a potential intruder, probably because I was the only one dressed en homme. I smiled nervously and to my great surprise was called into the group by Lynn Conway.
She studied my appearance and asked why I had come, in a polite yet assertive tone of voice. The other women leaned forward with inquisitive looks on their faces as if asking the same question. I apologized that I didn't have time to dress en femme, but that I was a transitioning woman just the same. To lend myself some credibility I quoted Lynn's writings from her website and provided a quick summary of who I was and why it was so important for me to be there. My sincerity seemed to win her over. She smiled and introduced me to the rest of the women with handshakes and hugs, which elicited a few tears of relief. I was delighted to be among them.
When I left the conference to go to the local gym, I noticed that my body had changed somewhat. The hair on my arms, chest, and legs had disappeared. My face was smooth and feminine. My voice had risen to a higher pitch. I was comfortable with my new self, but upon my arrival at the gym the guys regarded me as an entirely different person. The usual friendliness gave way to smirks and jeers:
"Hey there, are you sure you can handle that much weight? Uh, if you think those lat rows will make you look tough, you better think again. How long have you been coming here anyway? Three years? If you ask me I'd say more like three weeks."
In their eyes I was no longer a man. Apparently no fate on earth could be worse than that. In defiance, I flexed my biceps and scowled at them, but they only shook their heads in pity.
When I awoke, I weighed the pros and cons and decided that it was more important to be true to my femme self than revert back to my old guy self for the sake of avoiding criticism. This is good news for my evolving persona, but how will I deal with the loss of my male privilege? I have taken it for granted up to now. People generally leave me alone, and I like that. This is not guaranteed in the future. I hope I'm not too set in my ways to roll with the changes.
Last night I dreamt that a MTF transgender conference was taking place at a local college. All of the TG women I admire were there. I was eager to attend, but the doorman at the entrance of the auditorium denied me admittance. He politely explained that all attendees were supposed to be "trans only", assuming that I was not trans because I was dressed en homme. In my best femme voice, I pleaded with him to look beyond my appearance and let me in. He did, but only after warning me to "stay at the back" and "not to make a scene".
The conference was a small affair. About 30 transwomen chatted with one another on a circular arrangement of wooden benches. I entered the room quietly and tried to blend into the background. This did not work. Every pair of eyes regarded me as a potential intruder, probably because I was the only one dressed en homme. I smiled nervously and to my great surprise was called into the group by Lynn Conway.
She studied my appearance and asked why I had come, in a polite yet assertive tone of voice. The other women leaned forward with inquisitive looks on their faces as if asking the same question. I apologized that I didn't have time to dress en femme, but that I was a transitioning woman just the same. To lend myself some credibility I quoted Lynn's writings from her website and provided a quick summary of who I was and why it was so important for me to be there. My sincerity seemed to win her over. She smiled and introduced me to the rest of the women with handshakes and hugs, which elicited a few tears of relief. I was delighted to be among them.
When I left the conference to go to the local gym, I noticed that my body had changed somewhat. The hair on my arms, chest, and legs had disappeared. My face was smooth and feminine. My voice had risen to a higher pitch. I was comfortable with my new self, but upon my arrival at the gym the guys regarded me as an entirely different person. The usual friendliness gave way to smirks and jeers:
"Hey there, are you sure you can handle that much weight? Uh, if you think those lat rows will make you look tough, you better think again. How long have you been coming here anyway? Three years? If you ask me I'd say more like three weeks."
In their eyes I was no longer a man. Apparently no fate on earth could be worse than that. In defiance, I flexed my biceps and scowled at them, but they only shook their heads in pity.
When I awoke, I weighed the pros and cons and decided that it was more important to be true to my femme self than revert back to my old guy self for the sake of avoiding criticism. This is good news for my evolving persona, but how will I deal with the loss of my male privilege? I have taken it for granted up to now. People generally leave me alone, and I like that. This is not guaranteed in the future. I hope I'm not too set in my ways to roll with the changes.