Becoming and Being

I couldn’t resist a brief interlude on the word phusis (which, in Greek philosophy, meant something like being):

Phusis means the emerging sway, and the enduring over which it thoroughly holds sway. This emerging, abiding sway includes both “becoming” as well as “Being” in the narrower sense of fixed continuity. Phusis is the event of standing forth, arising from the concealed and thus enabling the concealed to take its stand for the first time.

–Heidegger, Introduction to Metaphysics, chapter 1.

God, that’s stunning. I think it’s a beautiful way to describe emerging identity; becoming who you feel you are. There’s something about the idea of standing forth that feels empowering: “here I am, this is who I want to be, and now I want you to see that”. Personally, I’d rather not exist in a state of “fixed continuity”, but the word “sway” sounds pleasantly fluid.

I know Heidegger didn’t mean any of this, but this is how he made me feel. When I reached this part of the book, I got goosebumps.

Working Out & Gendered Exercise

I started working out at home recently. I have gym class twice a week and realized all those situps were paying off: my stomach looks slightly more defined. If I could achieve that much with a not-so-strict gym teacher, then who knows how far I can get if I actually apply myself? I know that my biceps could be in a much better state than they are right now, and it would be awesome if I could burn just a little fat off my hips.

I’m not aiming to be a bodybuilder. I’ll probably be a scrawny shorty thing for the rest of my life and I’m ok with that. But it does feel good to be in control of what I look like, especially since I won’t be able to get on testosterone for a year or more. I can’t force my face to grow a beard, but I can make my muscles look the way they would if I had more T coursing through my veins. And a little exercise can’t be bad. (Well, it could be bad if I totally lost it and started working out all day. But somehow, I doubt that’ll happen.)

I googled a few exercises focused on hip muscles, but mostly I stick to situps and pressups. Our gym teacher told us that girls should kneel to do pressups, which requires less effort. I never know what to do when she gives different instructions for girls and boys (thankfully I’m in a mixed-gender class). I usually try to do the “boy” exercises but stop if I feel I could hurt myself.

I know that “male” bodies tend to have more muscle mass, but I don’t know if that justifies differential workouts. After all, not every “male” or “female” body is the same. Maybe there should be two sets of exercises to choose from, requiring different levels of effort/fitness, so we could choose. Or the teacher could recommend one set or the other to each individual based on body type, instead of lumping us into gendered (or, more accurately, sexed) groups. I guess it’s simply easier to divide us by gender.

I just realized that body building literally means constructing your body. Which is exactly how I relate to my corporeal existence: I think of physical transition as constructing the body that fits me best. It feels great to start that process, finally, even if it’s only by developing a few muscles.

Swine Holidays

All schools in Argentina have just closed until August 3 due to the swine flu, which means one month of unexpected holidays. If you’re in the northern hemisphere, remember that it’s winter in the south, which means we shouldn’t be on vacation right now. Plus, it’s cold, so more people get sick. A lot of people are dying from swine flu around here, which is worrying since it shouldn’t be so serious.

This happened pretty suddenly, so I didn’t have the presence of mind to get something extracurricular out of the school library. I’ve been meaning to read Foucault’s History of Sexuality, although I’m not sure I’d understand it; now would be a good time to try. The library might just be open until today, so do you have any recommendations? Keep in mind that my school’s library mostly has classics.

Further Out at School – Awkward Conversation with a Cis Person

Today, out of the blue, a schoolmate –let’s call her Q– began asking me about my gender identity. She started out by asking if my legal name bothered me, and was really surprised when I said that it does bug me a LOT. I was relieved that she asked: recently I’ve been dreading school, even if I do love certain classes, because it’s so tiresome to be called, over and over again, by a name that doesn’t fit (except by my friends, who try to respect my name and pronouns).

I think all my classmates know that I’m trans, but they probably don’t understand what that even means; I imagine that they think of me as a weird faggysuperbutch dyke with a “special” name she likes to call herself. True, I’ve never spoken directly to them about my identity; I felt stuck in a limbo where it didn’t make sense to come out –everyone already knew– but I wasn’t out enough to improve my life, either.

There were another two classmates present during my conversation with Q, and one of them promised to call me by my male name; she hadn’t realized that my female name hurt me (the other person pretended he wasn’t there; it was a pretty awkward situation). Maybe I could have gotten out of that limbo earlier had I told people directly that I was changing my name, but I don’t know how I would have done it. It’s hard to deal with people who aren’t exactly friends, but with whom you interact daily.

Then the conversation turned towards inappropiate and intrusive areas.
“You like girls, right?”
“Do you want to get surgery?”
“Are you like those men who are born with boobs and girl parts?” — I answered “yes” to this at first but then I realized she wanted to know if I was intersex; although she didn’t actually know that word. And I know that some cis men develop breasts, but I doubt they are BORN with them.

I was caught off guard so I answered kind of incoherently. I feel a little frustrated because I tried to explain things in a way she could relate to instead of telling her that, in my opinion, body doesn’t determine gender (or vice versa). I know it isn’t my obligation to teach cis people about trans issues, but sometimes I like trying to open someone’s mind to another point of view. I also wish I had retorted something like “do you like girls? do you want surgery? are you hitting on me?”

I am improving in the way I handle this kind of situation. I managed to deflect these questions somewhat, instead of answering personally: I said that who you are is different from who you’re attracted to, and that some trans people want surgery but not all of them, and that it’s a tough decision. Now that I think about it, I’m happy with how I reacted, given the surprise situation; and I think I’ll be more prepared next time. And I hope people at school start respecting my identity.

Transgender Body Image

In the documentary Boy I Am –about the relationship between trans men and lesbians– several people mentioned worries about teens getting hormone therapy: they said that every female-raised person goes through body issues during that period.

This bothered me a little since the people saying this, for the most part, were not trans. And it actually clashes with my own experience. I didn’t grow up with any body image problems because, for most of my teen life, I’ve done a good job of ignoring my body. Whenever I did look at myself, I didn’t see anything wrong: my body fits pretty well into society’s standards of “normal”. I just didn’t identify with what I was seeing; I avoided mirrors because I was better off thinking of myself as a floating brain. Eventually, I started really looking at my body and thinking about how I perceive myself; and I realized that I would feel much more at home in a male-ish body.

What about you: do you think that being transgender is comparable to having body issues? I consider this comparison to be inaccurate because it implies that you can shoo away the desire to transition physically by improving your self-esteem. It seems common for transphobic people to insist that we, as trans individuals, should “accept ourselves” — accept our bodies. But is it less “noble” to change one’s body instead of changing one’s mind? Some people say it’s the easy way out; yet is it really easier? The process for getting surgery or even hormones is hard and full of hurdles.  And accepting oneself as a trans person, in my experience, can be even harder.

Still, I’ve been wondering: would it be possible for me to accept my hips, my chest and my beardlessness? It is hard to look at myself naked, but it would also be fairly hard to get a prescription for testosterone, and it would be even harder to explain to my extended family why my voice dropped an octave. And if I didn’t do anything permanent to my body, I wouldn’t have to worry about changing my mind in the future.

But I don’t think I would ever be truly comfortable with the way I feel in my own skin. If testosterone can make me feel beautiful, sign me up. Like I usually say to people who don’t understand the wish to transition: we all deserve to be happy, in any way we can.

Being visibly queer

For the past few months, I’ve been consistently perceived as a cisgender male by strangers and new acquaintances. I guess I might not have that privilege in the future: apparently I look like a 13 year old, so people will probably figure me out in more adult settings like college and job interviews.

I don’t know how queer I look, though. A couple of things happened this week that made me think about this. First, I saw a gay couple in a restaurant; I was really happy because I only see openly gay couples in public two or three times a year, not counting the Pride March. I think I might have looked at the people in the restaurant a little too much, trying to figure out if they really were together.

Now I feel guilty because if they thought I was straight, then they might have thought I was staring out of ignorance or hostility (”Whoa, two men? Loving each other?!”). I think it’s a different story when queer people look at each other in recognition and friendliness, but what do you think? Is it rude in that case, too?

The other thing that happened: I think a man hit on me while we were on the bus. I’m not really sure because the bus was crowded, so maybe he couldn’t help standing close to me; and I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me because of his sunglasses, but his face seemed to point in my direction often. These and several other details led to me to think he might be attracted to me. Luckily, if he was hitting on me, he wasn’t doing it in an aggressive manner and nothing happened.

It isn’t the first time that I’ve noticed “gay-looking” guys looking at me (they set off my gaydar, although maybe I’m just basing my judgment on stereotypes). I wonder whether they look at me because they think I’m handsome or because they can tell I’m queer. Knowing they probably see me as a preteen boy confuses me further: isn’t it weird if they’re attracted to someone so much younger? Can a boy already look gay at that age?

There are many things I would like about being visibly queer, if it turns out that I am visible as a queer person (I don’t think I would change my appearance to become visible, though). It would make me recognizable to other LGBTQ persons and remind straight people that we do exist, although maybe it makes them believe that we really are recognizable at first sight. What makes a person visibly queer, anyway? Queers and straights come in all shapes, sizes and genders.

I’d like to know how I’m perceived. My friends can’t really tell: they’re too close to notice and they must have a hard time seeing me as male, anyway. I’m also concerned about my safety, since gay males are supposedly at greater risk of violence. So far, I’ve been lucky, but still I hardly ever wear my rainbow pins on my backpack. There are some parts of being visible that I can control, and sometimes visibility is just too scary.

One Man’s Menstruation

A friend recently asked me for sanitary pad. Part of me wanted to get angry and say “why would you ask a guy for that kind of thing?!”; but then I realized that menstruation doesn’t need to be gendered. Sure, all sanitary napkins are marketed towards women, but when have (most) publicists ever been gender-savvy?

I’m not especially proud of menstruating, but I am trying to reconstruct it into a gender-neutral occurrence; a side-effect of having a uterus (and low testosterone levels). Having a uterus isn’t half bad if it brings the possibility of giving birth, and having a vagina can definitely be fun. I don’t know if I’ll ever want a penis –more on that later–, but I definitely want to keep my vagina.

This all reminds me of the Ani DiFranco song, Blood in the Boardroom, about menstruation:

i say it ain’t no hassle no it ain’t no mess
right now it’s the only power that i possess
these businessmen got the money
they got the instruments of death
but i can make life i can make breath

Names do matter

I’ve started speaking with my principal about changing my name next year; she seems to be worried about the legal implications, so I’ve been looking for legal precedents. There is a lot of new trans-related legislation, but the laws that apply to trans students aren’t valid in my city, and the ones that do belong to my city aren’t specifically about schools. Actually, there is one very important law that I could use, which refers to underage trans students, but I couldn’t find much information about it; I think I’ll need a lawyer’s help.

The principal also wants my parents’ consent, which I’m not sure I can get. I’ll try, but I don’t think it should be necessary; I’ll be 18, after all, and even if my parents have some power over me until I’m 21 (depending on the situation), my well-being at school should be more important. In the meantime, I’ve been signing my letters to the principal with my male name, asking for permission to organize queer activities, and she’s been sending me the permissions with my female name. It makes sense because the bureaucracy wouldn’t find my male self in the system, but I’m going to continue signing that way.

A few weeks ago I signed up for a career counseling group at school using my female name; I knew they would check to see if I existed in the system and I was afraid the school might call my parents if they realized what was going on. This group started today, but I really did not want to go voluntarily to a place where I would be called by my birth name. Until the last minute, though, I hadn’t decided whether to go or not: it could prove very useful, and it wasn’t fair that I couldn’t go because my identity.

The friends that were present at that moment did not understand why I made such a big deal out of this; one of them argued that she didn’t like her middle name either, but she didn’t fuss so much about it. I sincerely told her that if her name bothered her so much, she should change it too. The point isn’t to compare our sufferings; that doesn’t lead anywhere. I believe we should all aim to be as happy as possible, no matter how small or large our complaints.

I’m tired of hearing that worrying over names is silly. I’m sick of internalizing the feeling that it’s foolish to care so much about a minor detail. It is not minor, nor a detail: I heard a trans woman talk about friends of hers, also trans, who wouldn’t go to the hospital until they were very sick, in order to avoid the humiliation of being called by their birth names; not to mention the discrimination they suffered (there are laws now that protect trans people in public hospitals). No one would risk their life like that if it weren’t so painful and violent to be called by the wrong name.

I ended up going to the career counseling group; it was awful. I decided that my Whole Future was worth being treated as female for an hour, but I hadn’t considered that we would have to introduce ourselves; when it was my turn, I got defensive and probably sounded hostile (oops) when I said I would rather not introduce myself. The counselor was not comprehensive at all and finally forced me to say my name; I couldn’t flee without making a scene. I wanted to run to the bathroom to cry while she went on and on about having to use your name whether you like it or not, especially within institutions where it’s legally needed. I obviously won’t ever go back, but I still think that’s unfair. And I’m more certain than ever that names are not foolish at all.

Transphobic subtitles

Today I found a copy of Itty Bitty Titty Committee with Spanish subtitles. It’s the only movie I saw that has a transmale character –Aggie– so I had thought about showing it at school to help trans visibility (I still haven’t found the courage to watch Boys Don’t Cry).

I looked for my favorite scenes and I noticed that the subtitles had typos: they said “ella” (she) when referring to Aggie. But they weren’t typos at all: every single time someone called Aggie “he”, the subtitles said “she.” Even when Aggie spoke, he used female words to refer to himself.

I am very angry at the people who translated this movie. It’s amazing how the ideology of whoever writes the subtitles can change a whole  film: it can alter a character’s entire gender on a whim. They ruined the only happy transmale character I could show my schoolmates.

We seriously need more positive movies about us; or maybe any kind of movie about us. I know there are a few films out there, but they have severely limited distribution. And they’re still only a few.

Returning to the topic, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a gaping difference –involving LGBT people– between the subtitles and the actual dialogue; once, on TV, “I know you’re straight” became “Sé que sos un hombre de verdad” (I know you’re a real man). I was flabbergasted.

In both cases, apparently, translators have the power to decide who is a real man.

Growing Taller with T

I’m pretty short. I’m almost as tall as the average girl –1.60m or 5′ 3”–, which makes me shorter than almost all the men I know. I don’t really mind –I don’t feel inferior because of my height or anything; I hardly even think about that– but maybe it would be easier if I were a little taller. I could find pants that actually fit, for instance.

What does annoy me is people’s attitudes towards short guys. I have a very short classmate and people are always teasing him about his height, while they don’t usually say anything about short girls. And whenever my friends are talking about the kind of men they like, they all agree that short guys aren’t attractive. I don’t think I can criticize their tastes, but I think it’s disrespectful to say that when I’m RIGHT THERE (they tend to forget I’m a boy).

Actually, I can’t think of many advantages that come from being tall; maybe reaching high shelves, but you can use steps for that. And I never had trouble with my height as a girl. But sometimes  feel hurried to take testosterone because if I start before the end of puberty, I might grow a little (I checked a biology textbook that said bone growth might continue until age 20). I don’t know if I need that, but I know I wouldn’t mind; and I don’t want to regret missing out on this possibility.

What would be great about growing is that my hips might narrow. The biology books I consulted say that estrogen makes hip bones grow wider (T does the same for the shoulders), so if T made me grow, maybe my hips would end up growing less than the rest of me. I’m usually more or less tolerant of my body, but I do not like having wide hips AT ALL. Anyway, my hips will look narrower with T because of the fat loss.

I also heard that testosterone has better effects if taken early, but I haven’t found much information about that. It seems to have great results at all ages; Gender Outlaw started as an adult and his feet grew, which would be useful for me (I never find men’s shoes in my size). I should ask Julian in a few months; he’s 18 and just started T. This kind of info is very important for deciding when to come out to my parents, so I’m still researching it.

I plan on telling my parents when I finish this school year, soon after turning 18, and I hoped to start T a few months later; but my psychologist thinks they will need a whole year to digest the information, so I should delay starting T. If that might mean missing the opportunity of having a body that’s better for me, I don’t know if I can wait. An alternative would be to tell them now and risk becoming an emotional mess in the middle of the school year, just so I can start T earlier. I’m trying to decide what my priorities are.