Fighting the Fears.

A danger, risk, and temptation of transitioning, is that of becoming a 'professional victim'. Hardest to avoid is the feelings that lead to becoming agoraphobic due to a mix of cisphobia and fear for personal safety. A sort of heavy paranoia that settles in over everything and makes the simplest of activities a hard trek through harsh terrain.

On a day like this (the sun is shining) with people seemingly everywhere, is a particularly hard one to push through the fears for something as minor as a shopping trip. I guess that's why it was on my mind as I went to pick up some supplies; it took more than a few deep breaths before I pushed myself out of the door.

Everything was fine, no hassle whatsoever.

Vulnerability is a big thing for me. I'm small, and pretty weak (screw you, myth that all transsexual women are stocky builder types, built like a brick outdoor lavatory). In a fight I'd have to rely on technique, except I don't have any (unless you count 'running the hell away' a technique). I feel vulnerable all the time, not just physically but emotionally too, because so much is wrapped up in people accepting me as who I am, and it only takes a slight knock to put my confidence out of commission for a little while.

It's embarrassing not to pass, shameful even.

Aside from the implications of those things (transsexed people being more vulnerable to violence, and that trans-people are shameful, embarrassing, second class creatures,) I occasionally get called on the possibility that it's all in my head. It's not, but I can see why people say that. The problem is that the infractions of others are often things that cis-people would brush off as minor, trifling things, and that unless you're the victim of these things, you don't notice them at all without looking carefully. Even if you are the victim, you still don't see the extent of it, as it goes on behind your back, out of earshot and out of sight. (When my own mother first came to meet me, she was so conscious of other people, noting their reactions, which she brought up later on, to which I said I hadn't noticed.)

Understand the paranoia yet?

Of the minor trifling things, being misgendered is one of the things that can mean so much more to a trans-person than a cis-person. A cis-person is misgendered, so they correct it, and receive apologies and share a laugh. A trans-person is misgendered, so they correct it, and receive a “but you're not a...” So, rather than face having their identity and gender stripped away from them, they just take it; choosing a scratch over a gaping wound. Occasionally things don't happen this way, but you get the idea.

There's also being stared and looked at under scrutiny, be it because the trans-person in question looks good or not, once people latch on, it's sometimes impossible to shake them, especially as their staring draws your gaze and you feel like their gaze is digging into you and exposing you. What they're thinking is impossible to know, do they think you're really good looking? Are they thinking that you're an abomination and blight on the world? Unfortunately, the best guess leans towards the latter over the former, maybe it's the look on their face, or just a bad vibe, but something about being stared at is unsettling, it's aggressive, whether it's out of curiosity or support.

People generally like to be left alone, unless they've put themselves in a position to be interacted with. Being a trans-person is not waving a big sign around saying “I want people to pay attention to me”. Some might argue that being deviant from the norm invites attention; that if you're going to be different you should expect to have your space invaded and have to represent your 'group'. This is pretty unfair; being ourselves should not mean we have to sacrifice our privacy of self. We shouldn't have to tell you why, tell you the details, tell you what state 'our junk' is in, or tell you about how our friends and family have taken it. If we want you to know about that sort of thing, we'll choose to tell you when we're ready.

The whole thing comes down to something pretty simple: We're men and women trying to get on with our lives with as little fuss as possible, with acceptance and respect for who we are.