Looking Back in Envy

It’s interesting to hear how others perceive you. We think we project ourselves in a certain way and we can be amazed at how others interpret our actions, our tone, our everything.

When I received my autism diagnosis a LOT of people in my life said “yeah, that makes sense”. It was strange to know that a lot of my mannerisms and characteristics were, well, not very typical or as subtle as I thought they were. I always knew there was *something* about me but I thought I was appearing, well, more normal to the rest of the world.

I suppose if you’ve come out to someone as non-binary, whether you are a crossdresser, transgender, or identify as something else, people will start to reflect on previous observations they’ve had of you and start to look at those times in a different light, in light of this revelation.

Suddenly everything you do and did is looked at through a different lens.

Besides my wife, I think Shannonlee, my friend and photographer, sees me at my most insecure, vulnerable, and doubtful. Being photographed means either letting your guard down or projecting yourself in a way that isn’t *quite* who you are. Sometimes somewhere in the middle. Sometimes both.

She shared with me once that when she is changing her lens or fiddling with her camera, then my whole energy changes. During the actual photographing, I am concentrating on how I should be posing or moving, but as soon as there is a pause, I completely withdraw into myself. Like a switch, I shut down.

I didn’t know I did this, but I suppose in retrospect it’s kind of a reaction to being “on” and really focusing on my body and my face and listening to how I should stand or whatever. But when I am “off”, the energy that I was using to do all of that leaves me completely and I am exhausted. I save up my energy and prepare for the next round of pictures.

Plusssssssss I feel a little silly doing these shoots. Like, who do I think I am, lol? Who am I to get professional photos done? Am I *that* vain? (Yes, sometimes.)

This photo was taken at my last photo shoot. It was taken at the Hyatt hotel in downtown Saint Paul, a beautiful, renovated former post office, if you can believe it.

I wasn’t the only one wearing a beautiful gown and getting their photo taken in Saint Paul that day. Across the street from the hotel is Union Depot. Another gorgeous, historical site. In fact, we did a shoot there last year. The depot was filled with young women who were going to prom. There were hundreds of high school students walking around and their gowns? Heartbreakingly stunning.

I could see the girls through one of the windows of the hotel. I sat on the ledge of the window, took some pictures, and then Shannonlee wanted to change her lens. It was then that I stared out the window and like I tend to do, withdrew from the world.

I watched the girls in their gowns. I imagined the weeks leading up to such an important event in their young lives. Shopping for their dress, their shoes, getting their makeup done, and enjoying the hell out of being a girl.

At this point in my life, dress shopping and enjoying my gender are pretty common things. They did the same things I do.

But the feeling of melancholy washed over me. I wasn’t thinking about the life I have now, I was thinking about being a teenager and the yearning to be beautiful. The pangs of jealousy. The fantasy of being a princess, just for one day.

Suddenly I was decades younger, back living in a world that doesn’t exist for me anymore. The sharp and quick return of those feelings shocked me and I felt them just as strongly as I did when I was eighteen.

Hours or minutes or years, I don’t know how long Shannonlee worked with her camera, but soon she said “ready!” and the switch had to be flipped.

The photo captures my feeling of past and present colliding, and realizing the ghosts of longing don’t ebb over time. The reluctance of returning from this brief visit to years past. The desire to be beautiful has been in my heart my entire life and always will be. No matter how delicate the gown, no matter the shade of my lipstick, the dream of beauty will always be chased and God knows if I ever will feel that I achieved it.

If anyone tells you that this is a phrase and you’ll grow out of it… I think they’re wrong.

Love, Hannah