When I tell people that at times I have a super difficult time with my dysphoria and being out in public they often scoff at me. They tell me that I pass perfectly well and that there is absolutely no reasons whatsoever that I should not feel totally and fully comfortable at all times in all settings with anybody. Wow, that is a tall order. To pass at all times in all settings anywhere? How about naked? Okay, well then maybe not all settings, but most settings? Most public settings? Sure, fine, okay, I pass fine. But not everything in life worth doing is most settings. Sometimes things in life that are actually quite common are very average public settings and they are extremely hard for some transgender humans to cope well with.
I bring this up as I recently went to Hawaii. Wow, Hawaii you say? Yes Hawaii! And Hawaii was totally and completely awesome and amazing and stunning and shockingly depressing at times. Wait, what? Yeah, sometimes while in Hawaii my dysphoria came up and smacked me on the side of the head and I cried. Seriously I did. Sometimes I cried hard. Why? Well it mostly had to do with something that I have always had a love/hate relationship with, swimming. Yes the simple act of swimming brought me to tears while I was in Hawaii. Well okay, maybe not just swimming, but rather the idea that while I was snorkeling, my main objective in going to Hawaii, I could not appear how I prefer to appear. If you have followed my ramblings for any period of time you will most likely know that I am totally and completely obsessed with my appearance. While swimming, specifically while snorkeling, I was not able to utilize my main weapons in helping my appearance, makeup, clothing, or my hair.
I was left then with my body, my face, and my voice. Not much, lol. Not an impossible situation, but not much either. Especially considering that I have not had THE surgery. Especially considering that my hair is obviously not feminine. Especially considering ?????? Any of at least a dozen insecurities that I have about my appearance. Most people have these same issues, cis or trans, so I am not alone. I understand that. I understand that most of us feel that way about our bodies, which is why I still push myself.
I still push myself to be who I am and do the things that I want to do. What things? Well things like go snorkeling, regardless of how I look. Things like wearing my bikini because I like it and I like how I look in it and I like the tan that I get while wearing it. Things like using my best feminine voice that I can, because that is who I am, regardless of what anyone else may think. But the thing that often brought me to tears was that I became super tired. Tired of telling myself that I was okay, that I looked fine, that everybody who saw me only saw some woman who felt like snorkeling that day.
I did it. Nothing bad happened. I had a great time. Everything was amazing. I would do it all again tomorrow. But it wasn’t just totally easy. It wasn’t free of growth. And growth is painful. It is what one needs to accept if they are wanting to work past their pain, to work past our fears, to work past anxieties. The thing is, I am trying to not expect myself to be perfect, but I am expecting myself to be real. And my reality is such that sometimes I will appear exactly how my dysphoric brain needs me to appear, with large breasts, beautiful full hair, and a lovely feminine face, and sometimes I wont. Sometimes I will appear as though I just rolled out of bed, because I did. Sometimes my hair is not as full as it often is, because it’s not always that full. Sometimes I will appear with almost all of my flaws visible. And that will probably always be hard to do, but it will always be worth it, because this is me. This is who I am.
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Its funny how our perceptions affect each of us. I would never have imagined you experienced a moment of doubt about your appearance, and yet I automatically assume the worst about my own! Pre covid I was out at a local nightspot, seated alone near a group of much younger women out for a bachelorette part. I was drawn into a conversation and before I knew it, was part of the group. It wasn’t till late in the evening that I thanked the young woman for inviting me to the table and being so accepting. She said accepting of what…and I explained. She smiled and insisted she had simply assumed I was an attractive, albeit older woman. I was stunned. There is no way I could have looked at myself in the mirror in that moment and have seen the person she saw.
Hi Kelly, I’m sure I’d feel much the same as you in Hawaii. For me it’s my body shape (certainly not an hourglass figure) and hairline. The goal, I think, is to be comfortable with who we truly are, trans women. I truly wish I didn’t have to own the adjective but there it is.
In the meantime I remind myself of what my therapist advises: some people are going to be ignorant about us and steadfastly remain ignorant. Nothing we can do about that. I guess it’s like racism. No one in their right mind would think anything less of a Black person but all too many still do.
Like you I’m normally fully blended and recognized for my authentic gender. But last weekend I was wearing a sunhat while hiking. My hair was tied back because it was so darned hot. On the trail a woman unintentionally misgendered me. As I continued on my hike I thought about it. Her doing that didn’t result in a depressive spiral like it used to. Of course, it still bugged me especially as I so often wonder about what people are thinking when they come face to face with me.
So, it’s progress. It’s slow. I think it’s similar to grief. There isn’t a straight line path through grief, we just take it however long it takes which seems interminable.
We’re each of us on our own Hero’s Journey. From what I’ve seen about you, you’re making absolutely amazing progress.
Really enjoyed the story you shared
I feel for you Kelly. I was wondering some of the same things about going to the pool this summer. I could show up with makeup, immaculate shaven skin, bikini top, loose hanging bottoms, and a scarf for my head. I had usually spent 20 minute laying in the sun, but the worry was what would happen in when I went in and out of the pool. I would have to switch to my swim cap in the women’s shower/bathroom in a stall with closed door. Okay that wouldn’t be that difficult, but getting out. What would my makeup look like. A mess? Smeared? or whatever? Fortunately (or unfortunately) the pool never opened for mechanical reasons. I was so looking forward to showing up at the pool in my bikini top. Well there is always next year. And who knows, something might be missing by then.
I hope you don’t mind if I put a link to a post I wrote about passing – https://stephiegurl.home.blog/2020/12/08/saying-fuck-to-passing/. I am currently working on another. The major theme of this one is the unfairness of having to pass.
All the best, Stephie