A View On Gender Lines

Well, I suppose it's about time I actually made another post regarding transsexuality.

One view people have regarding transsexuality that has been brought to my attention is that they feel it's mostly for the clothing. I've even had it pointed out to me (even though I was already aware of these facts) that men can wear kilts and so have a socially acceptable skirt, and there's an increase in acceptance of metro-sexuality, and so it's now socially acceptable (as it has been in past ages) for men to wear makeup, carefully care for their skin, hair and nails. It's also now socially acceptable for men to be the one to stay at home and take care of the housework. There's even transvestism, which has been having an increase in social acceptability as well, where men queen it up, either being stylistically over the top in it or being moderate with it and just enjoying the feel of the clothes and different social attention. However, none of these are me.

I'm perfectly fine with men who do any or all of the above. I think it's actually really cool, and it in no way do I think such demasculanises them. Even years ago, long before I was able to seriously question my gender identity I was perfectly fine with those, even before they were really socially acceptable. However, even then I knew it wasn't for me.

If I had been asked at the time, I wouldn't have been able to really give a reason as to why. It was something I occasionally tried to think about, but I always avoided the answer. Of course now I know why that was, as my subconscious was protecting me from a path that I couldn't start down at the time. I even consciously knew I couldn't really try coming to a concrete answer about my questioning what it would be like if i had been born a girl, nor did I allow myself to ponder it for long. I always used the same end conclusion, even if it didn't seem like it was really correct, in that I was a guy because of what rested between my legs. But the thing is, that's the only reason I was able to use as an answer. A pure physical limiter, ignoring what other physical differences that weren't there, or mannerisms. In fact I had to strictly limit my mannerisms to make sure they meshed with what my physical state, and hence what society said my gender had to be with no exception. To go against such would be to rebel against society, and society does not like those who disrupt it. But yes, I remember realising that some of the ways I liked to walk, or sit, and other such things were seen as girly behaviour, and in order to not face rejection, in order to not get in trouble for going against those unwritten rules regarding gender roles, I had to stop doing them, to train it out of my system so that I wouldn't accidentally slip up at an inopportune time and get in trouble for something I didn't mean to be doing. But I don't mean to really be covering mannerisms and other realisations from when I was really little.

As I got older I learnt more about the world and got exposed to some subcultures. I learnt that some men, outside of theatre, used makeup, and took extraordinary care of their skin and hair. I thought it a little weird at first, but I knew that historically it had been acceptable, and even seen as quite manly, to do so, and so really had no trouble with the idea. I didn't do it, in part because it still wasn't that socially acceptable and in part because I had a very, very low body image. I couldn't be arsed to care for my body that much because I simply didn't like it and was not comfortable with it.

Because I have a little bit of Scottish heritage one article of clothing that came up for consideration was the kilt. Yes, the kilt, the "man's skirt" as some jokingly call it. It's actually a cool article of men's clothing, and I have a lot of respect for those who are man enough to wear one in public (because some people aren't too jokingly calling it a skirt). Now, I never actually tried wearing one for a few reasons. One was that I would have to buy (or make) one, and since I didn't know how much I would ever use it and they're not exactly cheap, it wasn't an option. Another is because it would have shown my legs. This was problematic because I hated that they had hair on them, but yet it is, or at least was, socially unacceptable for a man to shave them (I didn't know about male swimmers then, but even since finding out that they shave their legs for less drag in the water, I also know they get a bit of flack for doing so). The other reason, which I could only barely admit to myself and felt too embarrassed about to try sharing at the time, was that even though I know kilts are definitely men's clothing, and I'd really only wear one where it's acceptable (such as at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival which had a Scottish weekend during those years), I knew that it would feel too much like a skirt to me.

Now, before people try jumping down my throat for this, the thing was that even at the time I knew that it was a little... hypocritical isn't the right word, nor is cognitive dissonance. I knew that it wasn't right to feel that others wearing kilts was perfectly fine, and in fact even somewhat admirable, but that for me to try wearing one would be me "wearing a skirt." At the time I just knew the thought process was flawed, but didn't know exactly why, nor did I feel that I could really explore the reasons for why it was that way. Now, of course, I realise what those reasons are; it's because it would have put me into a situation where I could easily slip from the carefully held acceptable gender identity to the one I always wondered about, one that at the time I couldn't admit, not even to myself, that I longed for.

I find it difficult to express exactly how this thought process goes, and I feel what I said above does not properly convey it. At the time I held to the identity that I was a man, but it didn't come naturally for me. That's a part that's hard for many to understand; it was the role forced upon me because of my genitals, and so in order to fit into society instead of being completely ostracised and punished for it I had to conform to the role and rules society had that dictated how one must be. It also doesn't help that I have Auspergers, and so try to classify things, make sure they're ordered and logical, and also have a lack of empathy and understanding of most people. This left me fairly blind to where exactly lines for acceptability were, to know exactly what behaviours were and were not allowed to me. I had to sit back and passively observe, trying to glean information that I didn't even know exactly how to look for, and had no clue on how to ask about. Of course, even if I had figured out how to word questions, I felt it was completely unacceptable for one to ask how their gender was allowed to act and was supposed to be like, for one was just supposed to mysteriously know. It was supposed to be this inborn knowledge, as others had it without being told, without being corrected, without having to ask, or having to observe to figure out. It was among the mysterious knowledge that others had and I didn't, part of what separated me from society and left me as an outsider.

As a side comment, because of this feeling of alieness and how others knew all of this information on how to interact, how to act in situations that I didn't, and they all agreed where I was confused, made me wonder if they acted by script around me, much like actors did on screen. They always seemed to know what to say, could have very flowing conversations without having to pause a bit figuring out how to intelligibly word their sentences. Their large motor skill actions (not that I knew the term at the time) were a lot better than mine, as though they were practiced and rehearsed, again much like actors in movies and shows. It lead me to question whether others were all putting on an elaborate show, for some unknown reason. Yes, I know it sounds like The Truman Show, but I seriously did wonder about it as a child. Of course I never told people about it, or questioned them, because I figured if they were acting, they'd have scripted lines for denying it, so it'd be impossible to disprove, but of course I also couldn't prove it and so was left at an impasse.

Side note out of the way, this alieness, this lack of innate knowledge that everyone else seemed to posses (and that I couldn't even comment on because they'd most likely not believe me and get me in trouble that way, or I'd be in trouble for not knowing what I automatically should, and so was best to just keep my mouth shut on the matter), left me in such a state that I had to be be very careful that I not do anything that would confuse me as to where the line was as I couldn't see it. To give a poor analogy, it's like being told to stay in the yard, cause wandering even a step out of it will get you in trouble, but there's no fence and they don't tell you where the boundary is. You're then left having to either try exploring where the boundary is and getting in trouble each time you cross it, having to stay huddled by the door and so get yelled at for not playing with the others, or having to very carefully watch the other kids in the yard, and having to figure out which belong in the yard, which are neighbour kids in their yard, and from that figure out where the boundary is. You also know you can't ask the other kids, cause they'll intentionally get you in trouble for not knowing, and there's some kids that traverse back and forth over the invisible boundary, and while they don't get in trouble you know you will if you even attempt it.

Because of this a kilt was out of the question for me. It's an article of clothing that starts to blur the line, to cross over that invisible boundary, because there really is very little difference between a kilt and some skirts beyond the simple design differences of cut and fabric. If I were to wear one I would become accustomed to it, and so no longer think about those minor difference, much as one doesn't often think about the minor differences in men's and women's pants. In my mind, even if in no one else's, I would start to forget where that boundary is, and so toe ever closer and closer until I'm farther and farther over it, and because I can not see it, and there's very few "landmarks" for noting where it is, I wouldn't even realised I had transgressed against the strict boundaries society has. This is not to say I would have started wearing frilly dresses soon afterwards while still trying to hold to societies role of a man, but that instead my mind would slip into which side of the fence I was really supposed to be on. Oh, yes, there was (and sadly still is) that near constant physical reminder, but in moments of laxness when it isn't making itself prominently known and I'm distracted from making sure I don't cross that boundary, I know I would have slipped over it.

Therein was also a fear. A deep seated fear of being outcast and punished by society, and it doesn't take much to realise that those whom society deals completely unfit or contrary to it are harshly punished. History easily showed how much that those who didn't conform to it's will were often very harshly treated and oppressed, and that's when it was against large groups of people! How much harsher then would it be against an individual, I wondered, as I didn't know there were others like me. Because of this fear I knew that I must avoid anything that might lead me to stepping over that boundary I couldn't see, nor even understand why it was there. It didn't matter how curious I was, or how much more natural and comfortable different actions and mannerisms from "the other side" was, because of something I had absolutely no control or say over I was limited to this unspoken, codified set of strict rules that if I strayed too far over from, or pushed or even questioned to hard at, that I would then have to wish for mercy as society turned against me. Oh, yes, people would do various actions that crossed over the boundary, but I couldn't figure out how far over they could go, or how many activities, or which combinations of activities, was allowable and what was not. It was a confusing, chaotic jumble that made no sense to me, that I could see no pattern in, but that others appeared to innately know and follow.

Because I simply could not see these invisible boundaries or comprehend why they were they way they were, I had to hold myself to a much stricter guideline than others had in order to make sure I wouldn't veer to far the "wrong" direction. Thing is I could only hold to these artificial boundaries for so long. I could only go against what innately felt right, what came naturally, for so long. I reached the breaking point for it almost two years ago now, when I finally was able to pull up the courage to admit to myself and my mate the question on my gender, and was able to finally, with an incredible amount of help and support from my mate, start the process of truly answering what my innate gender was, as opposed to what society dictated based on circumstances of my birth that I had no control over. Thing is, once I crossed that invisible boundary, once I was finally able to explore what the other side was like, I knew there was no going back. It took me a few days to fully accept it myself. After a week of living on the other side of that invisible boundary I tried to go back to the side I grew up on to better compare. I honestly tried my hardest to do so, but I couldn't even make it two days because I finally knew some of what had been wrong. I finally knew where that boundary was, I could finally see were it was and know the accepted limits, could push back and forth over it without causing a stir, except for one, tiny problem. It was against what I had been raised as and tried to live as for 25 years. I finally knew how I could fit into society, could finally feel comfortable in my body and fully accept the aspect I had always liked (such as I had always liked that I had hips as a kid, though as I grew older I mostly lost them from becoming underweight). I could finally act in ways that were natural to me. I could finally walk, and sit, and talk in ways that came naturally, without effort.

This of course was a very profound realization. It took me a while to really understand it, and I took a long time making sure that yes, I was sure and comfortable with it before even going to a psychologist about it. After that I again took a long time getting more comfortable and sure about it, allowing myself to express myself more naturally, before informing family about it. I knew there would be problems with them coming to terms with it, with even beginning to understand what it was and what it meant. I still don't think they really understand it, and fully accepting it is still a ways away. It's been hard on my friends too for understanding and accepting it. I do admit it is a huge change, for someone to shift from one social gender role to the other, and so I hold no blame to those having a hard time grasping it.

One thing this ordeal has led me to do, beyond do everything I reasonably can to work on transition, is to make sure others have information regarding it that I did not have. The first several months I actually toyed with the idea of deep stealth, meaning that only a very few people would know I was trans and grew up as a boy, but as time wore on and I became more comfortable and confidant as a woman, I foudn I cared less and less about being in stealth. Oh, I sure don't want people who don't know me to know on sight, as I do want to be able to blend into society (I much prefer the term "blend" over "pass," as it's not a test or something to be ashamed of), but I've found that not only do I not care if others find out I'm trans (as long as they cause me no grief over it), but that by being informative and open about it I can help others who are in similar situations to how I had been. I also know I have helped some people in realising they are not alone in their feelings, that transition is a possibility, that they aren't complete social rejects at that there's nothing wrong with them for not conforming to how society tried to dictate. That in itself has made my being open about it completely worthwhile, to better cope with the difficulties I've been having. I know it sounds kinda cheesy, but I am serious that in knowing I'm helping others find the anwers to their questions, even if they aren't trans themselves, or are transgender in another way, but just that I'm able to help them learn, understand, and be more comfortable with themselves that it really brightens my day, and makes difficulties I've been through easier to bear.