Forgetting Who I Am

I’ve been going out en femme for almost fifteen years now and I have learned a LOT.

Some of the lessons are practical like choosing which heels work best for certain activities or how much walking and standing I’ll be doing. Some are mental, like realizing people are not paying as much attention to others as you might think they are. Some are emotional, such as the importance of accepting that some people will stare at you or not be super thrilled that you simply EXIST.

You learn what is realistic. What I mean is that “passing” isn’t realistic for almost every single one of us.

And yes, that MIGHT sting but in a way it’s comforting to know that passing as someone who was assigned female at birth is about as rare as winning the lottery. The vast majority of us are part of a sisterhood where passing isn’t the norm but we do our best. Hormones and chromosomes do their thing and do not care about aligning what we look like with who we are inside.

When you accept that something isn’t realistic, then you should pivot to being happy with what you have, how you look, and what you’ve accomplished. That’s not to say we stop doing our best, but the mental image of ourselves as a petite, super femme girl that we’ve created and aspired to just isn’t happening. No amount of foundation or contouring will make me look like Elizabeth Hurley or Nicole Kidman, circa the 1990’s.

Learning to be happy with who we are, and being happy with our reflection, are the best things in the world.

ALL of this becomes easier the more we go out. It becomes more normal for us and we will stop overanalyzing everything that happens and speculating about everything that COULD happen. At some point in my adventures I stopped thinking “I am someone who was assigned male at birth and now I am walking around a mall in a dress and EVERYONE knows” and started to think “I need a new dress” while I meander through the same mall.

I stopped thinking about who I am. I stopped being paranoid that “everyone knew”. I mentally and emotionally transitioned into just going about my day and stopped thinking about how, well, unique I was.

I stopped thinking of myself as transgender and soon I forgot that other people will likely see me as such. Yes, I am transgender and I KNOW THIS. Other people know this as well. And that’s fine. I am transgender and I am proud of who I am I. Someone “figuring out” who I am isn’t solving a great mystery. I’ve accepted that someone knowing I am transgender is the same thing as someone knowing I am right handed. Essentially the gender I was assigned at birth is the same trivial information as which hand is my dominant.

When I interact with people, or inhabit the same space, I forget that they are interacting with a transgender girl. I forget that they are likely thinking “this person is trans”.

Which is a complete 180 from what I used to think. I used to be so dialed into thinking about what other people might be thinking about me and overanalyzing every word they used, every facial expression, EVERYTHING and connecting it to my gender presentation and gender identity.

I got to thinking about all of this on Saturday. I was taking up too much space as I usually do and was standing in front of a closed door. I mean, that’s really inconsiderate of me but in my defense I wasn’t expecting that door to open.

But GUESS WHAT. IT DID. And the woman who opened it was startled to see someone was in front of it. I mean, she probably wasn’t thinking that anyone would be careless enough to stand in front of a closed door but that’s exactly what I was doing.

At any rate, we were both startled and we laughed from the sudden surprise. We both apologized to each other, I stepped out of her way and she went about her morning.

I thought about how she probably wasn’t expecting someone to be on the other side of the door and a few minutes later I realized that she probably wasn’t expecting to see a very tall transgender girl on the other side of it. Not only did she have the unexpected experience of someone standing there, she also had the bonus surprise of ME there.

I try to be conscious of how people see me, regardless of whether I am en femme or not. If I walk my dogs and I see a young woman walking towards me, I know she is probably on guard. And she should be. I mean, I know I won’t hurt her or harass her, but she doesn’t know that. In male mode I am tall (I am tall no matter what gender presentation I have) and I suppose I could be considered intimidating. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable or guarded around me but I accept that most women have uncomfortable (putting it lightly) experiences with men.

When I am en femme I am conscious of something similar. I feel most people are fine with us, but I also know that there’s a good chance I am the first transgender person someone might see in real life. It’s possible that all the stereotypes and inaccurate portrayals of us are filling their minds. I know that someone might be, well, suspicious or uncomfortable about me based on what they have been told about girls like me and I try my best to show that I am just going about my day and the inflated fear mongering about transgender girls in restrooms is all nonsense.

But these days I forget who I am. I forget that some people are seeing me for who I am: a transgender girl.

Forgetting that is the best thing ever. This has opened up being able to live in the real world. I no longer feel I have an arrow pointing towards me that reads TRANSGENDER WOMAN. I am me when I am her.

And honestly? This feels better than passing ever could.

Love, Hannah