What’s in a Name

“Hey Donna!” Jasmine, one of the women at the registers, waves me over to take my order.

I have been frequenting a Starbucks on my way to the office. When asked for my name, I have been using Donna – which has been my ‘online’ name for the past twenty years. I also use it casually sometimes, as well as with people I consider closer than casual acquaintances. At my previous job, a had a number of friends there who called me Donna, or simple ‘Dee’. 🙂

The staff at the Starbucks only know me as Donna there. No one questions or second-guesses my name. In that microcosm, I am Donna and nothing else.

I point this out because trans people often get a lot of pushback when we ask people to refer to us in a way we prefer – in a way that is validating to us. People are quick to accept celebrities naming themselves: Sting, Lady Gaga, Bono, The Edge, etc… No one calls these celebrities out, saying “That’s not your ‘real’ name…” No one accuses them of being dishonest or deceitful. People accept and respect that this is how they wish to be addressed, and they do so without question. However, when a trans person chooses a name for themselves, it is often perceived that there is something ‘dishonest’ about it. We often get the question of “But what is your real name?” This perception is rooted in the notion that transgender identities are themselves not something ‘real’.

Trans people spend the first part of their life with a name that carries with it a lifetime of baggage: the expectations of parents, family, friends, colleagues. These are expectations that often do not resonate with how we feel and who we know we are. For us, the act of choosing a name can be a re-birth of sorts. Choosing a name is an act of self-affirmation – one which roots the ownership of our identity with ourselves, as opposed to with someone else. It is very much the case that something is ‘real’ only in so far as we can name it: by choosing our names, we become ‘real’.

For individuals who have legally changed their name, that is their name; it’s use is not optional. Referring to a trans person by their birth name is called dead-naming, because for these individuals, the person with that previous birth name simply no longer exists. Dead-naming is never appropriate, so please just don’t do it.

For individuals who have not legally changed their name, there is still no good reason to not respect how an individual wishes to be addressed. If you can respect the use of someone’s ‘nickname’, you can respect a trans person’s ‘preferred’ name. My story about Starbucks illustrates just how much of a non-issue ‘preferred names’ should be. As I said above, no one questions or second-guesses my using ‘Donna’ as my name. As a result, I get to start my day with a bit more of a smile. 😀

I worked with a woman named Pamela – she hated her name and told everyone to call her Pam. If someone called her Pamela, she corrected them. In very short order, we all called her Pam, and it was a non-issue. If you meet a trans person (or anyone for that matter) and are unsure how to address them (name, pronouns) just ask. We like when people take the time to respect us enough to ask. And if a trans person ‘corrects’ you, don’t be offended – simply make a note of it and move on. The goal is not to make you feel bad, just to let you know, “Hey, this is what I prefer…” 🙂

Come out, come out, wherever you are…

“In for a penny, in for a pound” as they say.  I have been ‘out’ for years now: very out at work, scaled back some at home.  It’s been a complicated dance I perform between the two worlds, and to be honest, I ‘leak gender’ all the time.  Some people just realize it, others just think I’m quirky, and some are oblivious.  In the end, all I care about is being treated respectfully.

On Oct 23rd, early in the morning, in rersponse to the White House memo about ‘redefining’ gender, I posted a new profile pic on Facebook.  A few minutes later, I posted the following to a closed FB group for non-binary individuals:

I kinda ‘officially’ came out on FB this morning. It’s not like I have been hiding – under ‘Gender’ on my profile I have Trans, Gender Nonconforming and Non-binary, but who reads profiles. 😉 I have never really stated explicitly ‘I am trans’, but I feel you would be hard pressed to miss that fact. Anyway, now it’s out there – new profile pic, of me, with a #WontBeErased frame. So there you go. 🙂

I am ‘publically’ transgender now… Whoa…

As I expected, members of the group were quite supportive.  We do like to support one another for things like this.  Many of my FB friends liked / loved the new pic, and several left encouraging comments.  It feels good to know you have the support of your friends, even it you are all not overly close.  But there was one reaction I wasn’t expecting…

I received a private message from a classmate from high school.  We were never close, I’m not sure we even ever spoke to one another, but that was what high school was like for me.  As I wrote when I was invited to our 30th reunion, it was rather cliquish and I never really felt like I fit.  But late last nite, I found this waiting for me:

Gary, I’m not on FB much anymore bc I forind it raises my blood pressure! When I was checking in more often, I always appreciated your intelligent posts, not knowing what u were living thru until u recently changed your profile pic.  I just want to tell u how profoundly touched I am by your courage and how deeply I respect and honor u and feel grateful that our paths crossed at one time.  While we were never close, I still want u to know that I am here for u if u ever need a friend. I hope u are living your best life and r happy.  Please know that there r many of us out there who have your back👍🏻❤️😘

I stared at the message, reading it several times in (somewhat) disbelief.  Few are the times when someone has reached out to me like this, and each time had been emotional for me, because it can be hard sometimes to see past the selfishness of what I do.  I’m ‘out’ for me – because I need to not be hiding; that’s not always easy for others.  I still tend to discount the (positive) impact I have on others, despite having been told so more times than I can count.  Thank you for reminding me. 🙂

The gains we have fought hard to make are likely to be erased in the blink of an eye.  It’s a hard time for anyone who is not white, cis, and straight, but we need to be strong.

Know that we all have people like my friend who support us and want the best for us.

A Little Validation

There is much written along the lines that one should not look to others for validation.  As a rule, I don’t, but now and then, it feels good to get a bit of external validation, especially when it’s unsolicited.  That is exactly what happened the other day on the elevator at work.

A woman and I got on the elevator coming up from the cafeteria that morning.  It was just the two of us, and she works for another firm (I could tell from her ID badge.)  As I stood there, looking down, not wanting to make eye contact, I could tell from the corner of my eye that she was looking at me.  Not that this is anything new, but it was making me feel rather self-conscious, so much so that I considered saying something, but decided there was no real point, as I’d be off the elevator in a few seconds anyway.

“That’s a really nice color, your blouse. It looks good on you.” She said, breaking the silence.

“Oh… Thank you!” I know I had to be blushing.

“It’s a great – compliments your hair color.”

Blushing more, “Well thank you! You have just made my day!”

She smiled as the elevator door opened on my floor.  I walked out, giving a little wave, “Have a lovely day!”  I headed back to my desk with more than just a bit of a smile.

I have long contended that people do not go out of their way to pay a stranger a compliment unless they are sincere about it. This woman was under absolutely no obligation to speak to me at all, but she did – and she chose to say something complimentary.  I’m inclined to believe she meant it.

Maybe, just maybe, I’m doing something right with all of this after all. 🙂

 

She’s Back…

My poor sad neglected blog…  I have had such good intentions – so many things I have wanted to say…  But I cannot seem to be motivated to write them up.   I am hoping that this entry will be the reboot – my opportunity to start over…  Time will tell.

So what has happened of such a significance, to prompt me to tippity-type into the ether once again?

More Railroad Fun

Ten years ago, I posted about Riding the Long Island Railroad and unintentional collection of nine years worth of data with respect to how I am gendered by the conductors on the train.  Since then, I have continued to save my monthly passes, to where I now have about 18 years worth of passes – all punched either male or female – and a few punched in-between.  Every month, my ‘gendering’ is recorded in a very tangible manner – and it has been a very very long time since this has happened to me:

Wow, what a mess!

The conductor took my ticket, punched it (male,) and handed it back.  Then a few seconds later, fumbled about and finally said, “I made a mistake, can I have that back for a sec?”  I handed him my ticket, which he re-punched as female and then circled the first (male) punch and wrote PIE (punched in error.)

I had to smile because I have so many tickets punched as female, and tickets punched as male, but only a few where they have been ‘corrected’ – and I have them ‘corrected’ both ways: punched male then female, and punched female and then male.  The whole thing is rather silly really, but as long as they keep punching them, I’ll keep saving them.

Short and Sassy

I got a haircut this past weekend.  Please do try and contain your excitement. 🙂

It was getting too long – which means it was taking me too long to do my hair and have it not come out looking good.  So, off I went to get it cleaned up.  I intended to have it re-layered and takes an inch off, but it wound being much shorter.  I was concerned at first, but I have to say I like the way it looks.  The truth is when it gets too long, instead of looking more feminine, it looks more like ‘aging rock star’ which is so not the look I’m going for.

At work today, a few people complimented me on my hair, which always feels nice.  One in particular stopped by my desk to chat and catch up.  She commented right away, “I like your haircut!”  I smiled somewhat awkwardly (I still am not good at being complimented) and said, “Thanks – I thought it was about time.”  She smiled and said, “It’s short and sassy for spring!”

I have written before (in Girl Talk and Girl Talk Redux) how my conversations with women have evolved over time (especially with friends at work) so I wasn’t surprised by our chat. But what did catch off guard was the ‘sassy’ part. I have had many adjectives applied to me over my lifetime, but ‘sassy’ has only ever been used twice: once by another friend at work, and then again today. It is one of those words that, to me at least, contains no hint of masculinity to it. It is a word women reserve for use with one another. It is a word that evoked an at first uncomfortable but then ultimately happy feeling.

And yes, I have been known to over analyze things just a bit now and then. 😉

I know that we should not look to others for validation, but I cannot deny how good a compliment from a friend can make one feel. I even caught myself a few times during the day, running my fingers through the short flipped up ends of my hair and smiling.

 

Casa del Whopper

After my uncomfortable shopping excursion to get a sport coat, I stopped at the Burger King down the road to pick up a nutritious balanced meal for lunch.  One would think shopping at the ‘big and tall’ shop should have prompted me to find something healthier. 😦  I wait on line – get up to the counter – order my food.  As I go to pay, the cashier (the girl couldn’t have been more than twenty) asks me “Did you just get your nails done?”  I tell her that I had them done last week and she replies “Wow, they look really nice!”  I smile somewhat awkwardly and thank her before moving down so she can take the next customer.

I’ve written in some detail about my nails (Little Things), about what I used to feel were somewhat surreal discussions I have with women about makeup (Girl Talk and Girl Talk Redux are good examples), and how as of late these discussions have become just part of my ‘normal’ interaction.

I mention these because I cannot help but feel some change has / is happening.  I know that when I have these exchanges (especially at work) I’m not being read as a ‘woman’, and yet there is nothing uneasy about them.  A friend at work shares her online shirt shopping, another shows me pics of her shopping for her wedding dress (which is beautiful btw), and another chats about some jewelry she found at a great price.  I could go on…

Friends at work know me (even if we haven’t specifically discussed the whole trans thing) and are comfortable with me so I can see where this would happen more readily.  But it’s the random strangers…  I suppose women will notice / compliment another woman on something and I get that.  I guess I am still adjusting to the fact that I somehow drift into that space now and then.  Maybe part of it is cultural (it’s been younger women who have complimented me) and there is a greater acceptance for gender variance…   I’m not really sure.

Whatever it is, I’m happy for the opportunities to spend some time chatting on the other side of the room. 🙂

Girl Talk Redux

I’m standing on the subway platform, waiting for the E train – my iPod blasting Pendulum – when I notice a woman talking to me. I turn to her and pull one of the earphones out. Still unable to hear, I remove the other and put my iPod in my bag.

“Your eyebrows look great” she says.

“Thanks!”, I reply and make what I am sure is an awkward smile.

“Do you do them yourself?” she asks.

“Yes. I fill them in a bit with powder and then finish them with some gel.” I tell her.

I’m not accustomed to being complimented by people I know, let alone a stranger. And I do not consider myself to be anything special in the looks department regardless of my gender presentation – so I was caught off guard by the whole thing. But I realized quickly she was being sincere about it and before I knew it, I found myself caught up in another conversation with a woman about make-up.

She asks if I pluck them and I tell her I do. She gets her’s threaded in California she tells me, as she’s out there about once a month. A bit more chat and we get on the subway and sit to continue our discussion.

“Your makeup is nice. Who’s shadow do you use?” she asks.

“It’s Bare Minerals powder” I tell her.

She confesses to having never tried it because it seems messy. As with Dana a few weeks back, I explain to her the proper way to put it on as she listens intently. A bit more about how nice it looks and I can feel myself blush a bit.

“Do you use shadow primer?” I ask her.

“What’s that?” she asks.

There is something not right (in my opinion) with the idea of me giving make-up tips to a woman. Nonetheless, I continue and explain what the primer is, how to apply it and I recommend she get the Urban Decay Primer Potion. She has dark skin and I tell her that it goes on with no real color, so it’s a good choice.

“Have you been wearing that all day?” she asks, motioning to my eyes again.

“Yes – Did my eyes at 6:30am” I tell her and smile a bit. “It really makes your shadow last.”

More chit-chat about how much we both love MAC and such when the train gets to 34st and I have to get off. I get up and tell her it was nice to meet her and to have a great evening. “Same here – and thanks for the tips!” she smiles and waves and the doors close.

As I walk up the stairs, I have this funny feeling about me. I’m not sure how to explain it other than it felt really really good. I know she didn’t think I was a woman, but then it didn’t seem to matter to her either. We talked like me being me was the most natural and ordinary thing in the world. Maybe that was what I was feeling… For a few minutes, I wasn’t a transwoman or transsexual or crossdresser or genderqueer or anything more (or less) than just a regular person in the world.

A girl could get used to that if she’s not careful… 🙂

Girl Talk

For several months now, I have been going every few weeks to get a Shellac manicure at a salon by my home. It’s a pretty typical place doing hair, waxing, nails, etc. and I have become a regular customer there which is a nice feeling.

I sit down and Dana (the nail tech) commences to ply her craft on my digits. We chat about the kind of stuff you chat about when getting your nails done: our kids (she has a teenage daughter), weekend plans, and – well – girl stuff. I see she has a tube of MAC DazzleGlass lip-gloss sitting out and I comment it’s a pretty color. She proceeds to tell me the story behind it (she does makeup and such for fashion shows and was given it as a gift) and how she’s not sure she’s loving it. I tell her I have the same type in a different shade and she asks me to put it on so she can see how it looks. I feel myself blush a bit but oblige her and brush on a coat.

“Oooo – I like that!” is her reaction.  🙂

And so for the rest of the time, we chat about make-up. She compliments my eyeshadow and I tell her it’s a loose power type. She confesses she has no idea how to use it and always makes a mess, so I explain the technique I use – a bit of information she is happy to learn.  And so on and so on for the next twenty minutes or so.

I’m sure there are people who will dismiss this as wholly vapid exchange, but is it any more so than say a discussion about golf, or a reality TV show? I don’t think so. People have all sorts of ‘meaningless’ conversations all the time. What made this interesting (to me at least) was the fact that I was having it.

There was an ease to the conversation: nothing forced or uncomfortable about it. There was nothing about being ‘trans’ or any kind of ‘why’ to the conversation.  In a word, it was all quite natural and it felt nice – and, dare I say, fun.  🙂

I love moments when all the nonsense fades into the background and I get to just be me.