I had SUCH a great Halloween.

I went as Supergirl. This echos back to the comic book character I created in High School that was me if I had been born in female form. She often wore a Superman T-shirt. When I first tried on the costume, I thought I looked great in it. In fact I think I even looked kinda sexy *blush* Here is a link to a picture, if you’d like to see for yourself: http://www.flickr.com/photos/linden_tea/4070228299/

My SL friends Sen and Pink are just fun to be with anyway, but I flew out to MA to be with them this Halloween. Friday we were in Boston and visited three colonial graveyards and a street that was mentioned in a HP Lovecraft story. Then we went to a Staged radio program all locally Boston-referenced which broke in half way through to the Boston version of War of the Worlds. Really fun. The Halloween itself we went up to Salem which had downtown all blocked off to Traffic and was a HUGE Halloween party. We went to the Witch Museum which hadn't changed much since I was a kid and I LOVED that... dioramas that lit up one at a time with a creepy voice over. We went to a wax museum and a haunted house and a creepy stage production.... there was a live band that did scary Journey covers - well, just Journey covers, but Journey is scary in its way. I got a HELL of a lot of attention, mostly positive though some negative. More attention than I thought I'd get. But seriously, it was evident I was transgressing from the high level of attention.

Of the negative response, mostly I got disapproving looks. One un-costumed guy tried to get into my face saying, “Why? Tell my WHY?” A little girl said to her father, “he’s weird.” Her father responded, “Yes he is.” The whole what are we teaching our children thing came up for me around that.

I received many positive responses. A number of people took my picture; many wanted to be in the picture with me. And I was happy to get my pic taken :D Many people shouted, “Supergirl,” “Superwoman,” “Nice legs” or “I love your costume.” A handful of people said I had the best costume they’d seen. One person said, “I bet all the guys are hitting on you.” I think some were. I even heard “Is that a man or a woman?” a few times and was very pleased about that. I assumed people were going to all “read” me as a man in drag; it was nice that some people at least had to ask.

Over dinner (Thai) we talked about the Middle Ages feast day tradition of turning the status quo on its head, and how doing that with gender is still relevant today. Sen spoke of how people who responded negatively were probably unconscious of the power dynamics at play. I said even the positive responses were mainly people who were picking up on the fact that something was being subverted and they liked that even if they weren’t conscious of it. Of course, I’m not trying to be subversive; I’m subversive by just being me.

Sacred Self-Love

I was on a retreat recently and someone said, “Fear is a lack of self love.” No blanket statement can really hold well under scrutiny, but it gave me food for thought. I wasn’t able to love myself as a man, because I’m not one. In Second Life, I’m able to love myself as a woman because I can fully express as one. Can I love myself as a trans-woman though?

Many spiritual people will tell you that liminal* moments are sacred moments. One of the reasons we have ritual (weddings, funerals, graduations) is to mark these moments as sacred. Well ~ we (Trans folk) are liminal PEOPLE. We are SACRED beings (I mean everyone’s sacred – but I’m making a point here.) “All is impermanence”, the Buddha said, which is another way of saying everything is fluid – even gender.

The sacred is often not comforting. Serenity does not mean feeling better. Giving birth is a bloody and painful thing. Yet I am convinced that in the Holy is love. Can I love my holiness knowing how much it challenges, outrages, and terrifies others? It seems to be the next challenge on my spiritual journey…

*liminal: of, relating to, or being an intermediate state, phase, or condition.

Two Weeks Ago, I Wore Boobs.

I just wanted to post a celebration of wearing hand-me-down breast forms when I went out dancing a couple weeks ago. Trinity gave them to me since she has grown her own breasts by now. I have not, in dressing to my gender orientation, made any efforts to “pass.” I have not, for example, worn any foundation or shaved anything except my face. I have not gone out with any padding anywhere. I pretty much look like a man in a dress, though that’s not how I identify. So the idea of wearing breast forms seemed odd in this context.

But that’s not how it felt. I felt remarkably natural wearing them. Some subliminal voice was saying, “of course I should have breasts.” It was interesting to be carrying the extra weight around (and gave me new sympathy for the well endowed). The only point at which the "connection" I was feeling with them was broken was when my chest sweated heavily and the sweat was trapped between. Dancing, though, was great! I have to learn how to shimmy now *giggle*

It seems a simple thing to be all excited about but *shrugs*

Pride and My People.

SO, Lumi and Beta came south to be prideful at Pride Fest in my neighborhood. I was in my favorite little oh so cute black and white striped dress with a darling black collar and bow, with matching striped knee socks. Beta was in pig-tails and “visual kei” knee-less pants. Lumi was in one of hes father’s shirts, with holes in the button-down pockets for a pen and epaulets. We were walking around taking it in. Suddenly, someone asked us if we wanted to be on a video that would be sent to president Obama, and our local representatives. Would we be willing to say a few words about equal marriage and the non-discrimination employment act? We did, happily. We mentioned that I would be officiating at the wedding of my intersex friends.

While being videotaped, I was pretty nervous. I gave the organization a donation and signed a petition for equal marriage. Afterwards, I felt lightness and a sense of power that I haven’t felt in weeks if not months. I was reminded that when I was recently doing the Ignatian “Spiritual Exercises,” any passage I meditated on where God referred to “my people,” I found myself imagining the LGBTIQ community. When discussing this with Beta and Lumi over sushi, Lumi said, that’s your Israel. Indeed it is.

A Coming Out Story

With the exception of my wife, I’ve only come out to people I’ve met since I moved to Chicago. When I talk to my older friends, I haven’t found much to say when they ask, “what’s going on?” Because until recently I haven’t had the willingness to come out to them, and coming to terms with being trans is so much of what’s going on for me.

Changing that began during my recent beach vacation. One of my dearest friends, L____, vacations with us every year in May. I’ve actually known L____ longer than I’ve known my wife. I didn’t have the courage until the second to last day of our trip to tell her. Finally I realized that it would be disrespectful to my love for her if I continued to keep silent.

It went well I think. Her immediate response was, “I’m surprised, but not any more surprised than when you became Catholic.” She said she knew I was never comfortable with being male in any of the traditional ways of being male. She always thought that I was comfortable with being a male in untraditional ways, though.

I have cis woman friends who look to me as the man who gives them hope for the sex. I prove that not all men are like (fill in the blank). Honestly, I worry (in my co-dependant way) that coming out as trans is going to re-enforce male stereotypes for some of these people.

L____ is the only person in my life that’s ever described me as masculine. She brought that up in fact. She said she never meant that I was macho. She explained what she did mean, but what she said eludes me. L____ wondered how many men are not comfortable with being traditionally masculine. She imagines a lot are.

I went on to explain that I’m not an essentialist and questions of masculine or feminine is not what I'm talking about when I say I’m a trans woman. I’m describing a gender orientation. People whose gender orientation matches their assigned gender don’t ever question their gender orientation. They may question their gender expression which is different.

In other words, I imagine many males question their masculinity. However I think not many males think about having a sex change operation or constantly imagine what it would be like to have been born with a female formed body. She agreed to that.

I concluded by saying that I was telling her this because I loved her. At that point I touched her leg (she was sitting next to me). She took my hand. In my insecurity I was afraid she was taking my hand off her leg because she didn’t want me to touch her now. But and squeezed my hand and said, “I love you too.”

The Scary Post

It’s been nine months or so since I started writing this post. For some reason I don’t fully understand this post has been very emotionally difficult to finish. In addition, my stubbornness would not allow me to write another post until this one was done. Well, I finally realized how self defeating that was and decided to simply post what I had written so far with a brief summary of what I intended to say next. I’m hoping I will then feel free to post more as things come up.

What I had written so far:

“Back in August, I met Beta in a one-time bohemian PA town which has taken a touristy frou-frou turn. However there are still some cool places to go. We went to a vintage clothing place that had some things I would just die for, but they didn’t fit me *dang* We also went to a fetishy shop and I tried on some things including a plaid mini skirt, but again, didn’t fit right :( It was still TONS of fun.

I drove there in boy-mode and changed into femme dress in the car (leopard spotted headband, black gauchos, a pink tank-top belted with a black belt with a circular buckle, with eyeliner and brown lipstick). I called Beta because just as I was ready to change, some lawn workers started working near the car and I wanted to wait until they moved on a bit to change. I was NERVOUS. Beta was running late and driving. I said I’d meet hir at the vintage clothing place. But as I got ready to leave the car, I was consumed with fear. I ended up calling Lumi (since Beta was driving), and asked hem if zie would “hold my hand” while I walked to the store. Zie said zie would, the loving darling that zie is.

In a way, I see the humor in my fear of walking past three old ladies in the parking lot. I was talking to Lumi about it at the time, and tried to sort out why I was so afraid. I realized that previously when I walked the streets in femme dress that I was either a) in the city that I lived (where I knew the lay of the land and therefore where to escape to should I meet hostility) or b) not walking by myself (with Lumi where zie lives).

Now I want to talk about what it was like to spend time with Beta. First and most important, more important than any of the gender stuff, is that Beta is a kind hearted and beautiful soul. Zie is also really smart and lots of fun! However, since this blog is about my gender expression journey, I want to focus on what it was like to be with another person who is transitioning in a similar direction. Now while Lumi and Beta are both exploring an orthogendered experience, in terms of public physicality Beta is challenged in some of that same ways that I am.”

That’s as far as I got. By challenged I meant we were “mis-read” in the same way and I was going to give an example. My intention was to then talk at length about how it felt to “not be alone” in my public presentation. Then I was going to talk about my wife’s reaction. I was staying with my in-laws and changed back into “boy-mode” before returning. In the kind of close-up view only a spouse would get, my wife noticed the traces of eye liner I had washed off. This was the first time I had been deliberately dishonest with my wife, since I had not told her I was planning on dressing femme. She was angry, and rightfully so. I promised not to lie to her again.

I was going to wrap up with an important realization I got checking in with my process group (a variation on group therapy). A few people talked about their fear of how much I was going to change as I transitioned. It occurred to me that for all the changes I was going through, the changes looked much greater to those around me. I was trying to express something that has always been there. For others this seemed like a much more radical change. This actually lessened my own anxiety and helped me to see how much I was taking on other people’s fear. I am not changing in essence.

So that’s it. I seem to have gotten stuck on expressing how meaningful being with Beta was (and still is) to me. Perhaps the words to express my joy and relief and my love are not available to me. Perhaps the emotions are just too overwhelming to describe. I don’t know. This is the best I can do at the moment.

Bathrooms and Make-up.

Bathrooms and make-up are gender designators that all trans and intersex people come up against in one way or another. When was the last time you saw a simple crescent moon on a bathroom door instead of a symbol of male and/or female? Did you know that Ms. magazine lost it's advertising for daring to have a picture of a woman without make-up on the cover? This post is about my relationship with both as played out on two consecutive days.

I had managed to avoid using the bathroom at the club where I've been dancing dressed femme. That changed on July 24th. Basically, I couldn't "hold it" this time. I was faced with the decision to either use a bathroom or go home early. I was aware that fear was operative here. Two fears presented themselves to me; 1) fear of getting beaten up if I went to the men's room. 2) fear of being yelled at and told "you don't belong here" by cisgendered women. I discovered I was less afraid of getting beaten up than I was of being told I didn't belong, and so I went to the men's room. Nothing happened beyond a startled look or two.

Underlying my fears was how I expected cisgendered people to react to their own fears. Cismen's fear of threats to their masculinity do not seem legitimate to me at all. A ciswoman's fear of men invading their space has a basis in real danger all women face in this world. My dilemma in respecting ciswomen's fear, however, is that in doing so I am letting someone else's perception of my gender outweigh my own. This had something of a depressive effect on me.

I began to focus not on my own internal experience, but on assumptions about how others perceived me. I began to think about the fact that my being dressed femme did not communicate transgender. I worried that others saw me as a transvestite. More accurately, I was worried that people saw me as a BAD transvestite. When I decided to begin dressing femme, I realized I had to be willing to f*ck with peoples heads. Not maliciously at all, it was simply a reality that by expressing femininity (especially without the intention of passing) I would blow people's minds*. Particularly the unquestioning cisgendered mind.

The next day as I hovered outside a make-up store, waiting for Tammy to arrive and help me select lipstick and eyeliner, I noticed a woman inside the store giving me a severe look. I assumed she thought I was loitering outside a cosmetics store to ogle the ladies within, but I have no idea what she was thinking. Whatever the actual case here, one phenomenon that transforms my gender dissonance into dysphoria is when other women view me with fear or suspicion because of my physical form.

Tammy arrived and we went inside. She introduced me to her preferred salesperson, who I will call Kitty. Kitty had bright yellow eye shadow that could have been outrageous, but totally worked on her. At first, Kitty and I each deferred to Tammy. Kitty wasn't disrespectful at all, but did ask what I wanted make-up for. Tammy looked at me and asked who should explain this. I ended up giving Kitty the contexts in which I would use the cosmetics (daytime Milwaukee excursions and clubbing at night) without going into being transgendered.

We started with eyeliner. Kitty suggested a waterproof gel applied with a brush for two reasons. One, because I have a significant eyelid fold, and water soluble eyeliner would fade. Secondly because brushed on eyeliner is versatile and can be subtle for daytime and more flamboyant at night. While applying the eyeliner she remarked that she wished her boyfriend would let her make him up. Both Tammy and Kitty remarked on how my face brightened when I saw myself in the mirror.

We moved on to lipstick, the impetus of this excursion (see the P.S. in post "Flow"). I wanted an everyday daytime lipstick and a "slutty" red. We looked a various shades and chose a hot pink color to try on as well. When I saw the hot pink on me, I was just thrilled. My five o'clock shadow (and it's always 5 o'clock it seems) did interfere with the aesthetics for me, but even so… it was exciting to see myself "dolled up." Tammy and Kitty pointed out that I was giggling xD

Now I still have not fully understood intellectually how wearing the outer trappings of femininity expresses my inner sense of gender. From an abstract left brain point of view, my femaleness exists no matter what I wear. I would suspect that hot pink lipstick is a right brain phenomenon. I don't feel "more" of a woman with it on. I don't think I even "look" more like a woman with it on. What I am doing is letting my own perception of my gender outweigh someone else's.

Something I'm struggling to articulate is the relationship between my sense of myself as a woman and my desire to be feminine. I am fully aware that there are ciswomen that aren't particularly feminine. There are feminine cismen as well. Logically, it doesn't follow that wanting to be feminine is the same thing as being true to my own perception of gender. Nonetheless, that is my experience of it.

When Lumi first took me to her closet and had me try on her old clothes, I was overcome with emotion and was at a loss for words. Later I named that experience, "I'm home." Upon reflection I'd name the experience of seeing myself in make up, "that's me." I was using color I found beautiful (sentimental even) to augment my face, my body, in a way that touched my inner sense of femininity. Was some of that sense of femininity cliché? Iconic? Did it matter?

We next tried on two shades of red. It turns out the darker shade gave me the effect I wanted. Kitty showed me how to get the classic bow lip shape. I joked about the effect being slutty, but really I wanted to broadcast feminine sexuality. Intellectually I understand feminine sexuality is not about lip color at all. What I ended up doing was kissing Tammy's wrist and the lipstick print on her skin was nonetheless an icon.

One of the most important aspects of my trip to the cosmetics shop was that it reminded me of my vision about going forward with gender expression. That vision seemed to say, "remain playful." The bathroom dilemma, in hindsight, was an indication that I was starting to take this too seriously. I SO needed to play with make-up the next day <3

*God bless Tammy (and Kristen & Toast) and my other cisgendered friends who have blown my mind by showing me such loving support <3