(no subject)
After parking my car late in the afternoon, I made my way across the field over to where the day-party in Woodley Park was taking place. Individual groups were having their own BBQ parties scattered throughout the park. On my mind as I was walking along and passing a group of people on my right, was simply that I just wanted to get to my destination... where I knew I would be amongst comfortable people.
"Hey Baby!" I hear from behind me. I don't turn around, but keep walking straight ahead hurriedly.
Then he rides up his bike alongside me... and turns out that it's my friend Tim -- heading exactly where I am heading. I totally laugh at the situation because now at least I'm not walking across the field alone. I point it out to Tim -- "notice how I promptly ignored you?" and we have a good laugh about it.
I've always been a pretty independent person. For most of my life, living in Texas, I lived with having almost No people I could truly depend on and call my friend. I had people I occasionally hung out with, but if you know my story (which I'm thinking of reposting), you may know how I started early on to extremely shut people out and live with myself in private. Very alone. Life went on. and on. and on.
I still lived.
...and yet I never let the condition of being by-myself stop me from doing any of the things I really wanted to do. I went out to eat by myself. I went to movies, concerts, and all sorts of other fun things by myself. I've traveled to Iceland twice by myself, traveled through Ireland by myself, etc.
I was always determined that if I wanted to do something, I wasn't going to be dependent on other people. Other people had let me down too much. Most obvious was deciding to move to California on a whim in 2001 because I needed change.
I still have this complete independence today.
Three weeks ago, I found out about and went to a good full weekend party happening at an Indian reservation out near Pala Casino north of San Diego. I love psytrance music. ...and it had been too long since I had gone to a great psytrance party.
I didn't try too hard to find people that might be interested in going with me; only getting around to ask one or two people. When it looked like none of these people could make it... I decided that I simply wanted to go. So naturally, I went by myself.
Imagine for a moment that every way that you've ever interacted with the world and the way the world has always interacted with you turns on its axis overnight. The new "way" is exhilarating, but it's sudden and you've got to take a crash course on how to experience it.
Literally overnight due to Transition, complete strangers smiled at me more, opened doors for me, offered to carry heavy packages for me, etc. etc. etc. That has been mind-blowing. On the other side of the coin, though, suddenly I started to experience cat calls and also, like any girl -- I had to become even more extremely aware of my surroundings and who is walking behind me. Gone were the days of taking for granted a walk to my car by myself through downtown streets at night.
I got to the party at the break of dawn that Saturday. For most of the day, I was there alone and enjoying it as such. It wasn't until later that I would see a couple of people that I knew. So meanwhile, I danced and danced and danced and enjoyed the beauty of the forest and then danced some more.
In a general sense, I always feel comfortable with the people at these parties I go to... or I should say, I feel comfortable at MOST of the parties I go to. Psytrance parties are interesting because there's something about the ones I go to that tend to bring out some of the most hyper-masculine macho males.
I tend to get a little uncomfortable when men are a little bit overly macho. The uneasy feeling is a bit of residue from the days when I'd used to have to pretend to be masculine. But nowadays, they do their thing with their friends... I do mine.
As the sun started to set, the music changed and extremely downtempo soft chill noise was being DJed as sort of a calm before the music of the night was to come on. Obviously, the dance floor became empty very fast. I was sitting on a chair across from the music and enjoying my late afternoon. I'll admit that I wasn't sober and seemed to be involved in my own little world contemplating the universe... when PLOP!! a chair gets put down right next to me and this guy sits down immediately wanting to talk to me.
No problem... I love meeting people. But as everybody knows... it's all about the approach. If I get a sense of initial comfort from meeting you, chances are that I'll be receptive to a good conversation and whatever else.
I didn't immediately feel threatened when he sat down and started to talk to me, but when he started to ask again and again if I wanted to smoke with him, asking where my boyfriend was, asking if I came by myself (Questions I've now learned that I NEED a 'canned' answer for) I started to get antsy. I knew he wasn't sober because he'd ask certain things more than once as if I hadn't answered it a minute before.
My opinion was that I imagined this guy probably gets laid a LOT being that he's so direct and knows what he wants. Some people enjoy that. For me, I don't have enough experience to be able to even WANT to be comfortable with somebody that macho and that direct.
He keeps pressing the questions and keeps pressing me to go with him to smoke. Remember: I'm not sober here, so my sense of judgment was skewed. I tried to be nice at first but after a few minutes, I started to get really uncomfortable. I tried to make an excuse to get away... bathroom sounded like a good idea and a sanctuary. I did my best to give a hint and to be nice about it, but he followed me.. pushing and pushing for me to go to his tent with him. About halfway to the bathrooms (which weren't far away), he got in my face.
"Just kiss me. Come on. Just kiss me. Kiss me." he continued VERY aggressive-like.
...and I got away.
In some sort of strange way, it was flattering that I was attractive enough to somebody to pursue me like that (even if they weren't sober)... but probably like most girls (or maybe even anybody) to be put in a situation where your comfort zone has been violated is a SCARY, scary place to be. I wouldn't want it to happen again.
UNLIKE, most girls though... I have an extra layer that I *always* have on the front of my mind.
Once again, Imagine the world I picture above with you in it... turned on it's axis... and now throw in the element that maybe half of the population of this world simply HATES you for being you. You've taken the most sacred of taboos, twisted it, and they feel you are throwing it in their face making them question their own selves.
They don't like this.
As this guy is in my face, making an all-out effort to get me to kiss him, in addition to trying to find a way to get away... my life was flashing before my eyes. If this guy only knew that I was trans*, his whole idea of his own masculinity would be challenged. Such a thought can really make somebody violent.
Ever heard of Gwen Araujo? Possibly not, but her murder was a high profile case of a transwoman being murdered because of who she was. Four men beat her and strangled her after discovering her trans* status. I do not know the details of how intimate she had gotten or not gotten with any of them individually without telling them.
What I want to point out is that the defense of these four men used Panic as an excuse for murder. According to this article (http://www.ebar.com/news/article.php?sec=news&article=153)...
[The] defense [...] argued that deadly violence should be expected or excused if it is committed in response to the discovery of a partner's transgender status. Defense attorneys claimed, to varying degrees, that the victim's "sexual deception" provoked a "heat of passion" response that lessened the defendants' culpability in Araujo's killing.
Thankfully, the jury didn't buy this "trans panic" defense as an rightful excuse to kill... and two of the men got convicted on second-degree murder. But this "trans panic" is a real, real thing.
At the heart of homophobia amongst men is violence. The guy might think... "somebody is threatening my masculinity?" and the most subconscious, primitive way of thinking is to ... well, eliminate the threat. Put down other people to make yourself look better... or in other words, protect your masculinity by taking out the threat... especially so no other person in your life might ever question your own sexuality.
Every day at work, I catch up on my news on all the websites. I try to get a broad spectrum of viewpoints... from conservative leaning sites to liberal leaning sites. One of the websites I frequent happens to be the American Family Association (AFA) website. I guess it kind of makes me a bit of a sadomasochist to read their obviously-biased new stories, but believe it or not, those websites a prime source of trans* news and a way I can hear about things happening across the United States. The AFA's website obsession with trans* news and gay news is so interesting because they seem to always be so "disgusted" yet they can't seem to print enough stories. It's reading the anti-trans* hateful comments on the articles that readers post that help to make me even more hyper-aware of my surroundings here in non-Internet life.
I grew up in Texas. I never knew any gay people or especially trans* people until I was in my late twenties. Not even in high school. I *know* the hatred people have. I used to be surrounded by it.
I've had my own share. If you knew me before I transitioned and before I lost weight, you probably know how I tended to stick out like a sore thumb. I literally looked like a big, bulky "guy in a dress". Yes, I did.
...and I didn't just disappear from my apartment front door and reappear at the front of the parties I went to that were thrown by my friends. No, most of the time I had to get gas or get money from the ATM or something. There were times that I got laughed at, pointed at, and called names.
There was one time that I went into the liquor store across the street from my apartment complex in Fullerton. As I was at the cash register checking out, I could hear some guy out front on the sidewalk start to yell as if he was a circus ringmaster.
"Hey everybody!! Look inside!!" he was yelling. "There's a half man/half woman in there!!". He went on and on and I was petrified because he was standing right in front of where my car was.
When I left the store, I bolted for my car as quickly as possible. The guy, still yelling ridiculous stuff about ME, had moved down the sidewalk a bit. His friends were all standing together by the vending machines obviously having no part of his rant. When he saw me... he came after me. I got in my car and turned it on. He kept coming after my car throwing up his arms as if he was trying to taunt me. It was as if he was trying to prove his masculinity to his friends. I drove off obviously relieved that I got away unharmed.
In the mid-ninties, way before I transitioned, I got beat up and completely bloodied because two drunk guys at a party though I was gay. I couldn't fight back on that one because 1) I couldn't fight, but also 2) I was drunk enough that I blacked out after the first punch and don't remember any of it.
Yes, I've had my share of homophobia.
But these days, I feel extremely lucky. It could easily have been me that was the person that was 6'5" and/or with the extremely large jawline and/or with the receding hairline. It could have been me that may never have had any hope of blending-in after transition.
Unfortunately, society places almost everything on looks. I've read blogs from people who when they leave their house, they don't even get as far as the street corner before people are staring, laughing, or pointing. It's so unfortunate. It's as if they aren't taken seriously just because of how they look and how their body masculinized before they decided to transition.
Mind you, I don't dwell on the negative. I keep my head full of positivity.
Yes... I count my blessings every single day.
When I first started transition two years ago, I used to ask my friends all the time... can you tell that I'm trans*? Is it obvious? ...and my friends would reply, "Why does it matter?" Well, this is why it mattered. At the time, I could not see myself from a third person point of view and at the time that my body and my face were changing at an extraordinary rate... I needed to know for those times when I was alone at the grocery store or wherever I was. I needed to know for my own safety.
These days, I just assume that *everybody knows* whereever I go. I even assume that the people that are going about their own busy lives and don't care... they know too. I know that there are always going to be people everywhere that just know as soon as they look at me. It's the safest route for me to be in.
Obviously, I *wish* NOBODY knew by looking at me. I *wish* I was born genetically XX when I was born. There are lots of things I wish, but not always possible. I wish I was rich, too.
Two weekends ago, when I met a girl... "You know I'm trans*, right?" "Yes".
This past weekend, before I started making out with a girl at the Bodyrock DJ party... "You know I'm trans*, right?" "Yes".
So, back to the Psytrance party... the thought of this guy making the realization of my trans* status was terrifying. The thought of his friends potentially seeing him with me, knowing that I was trans* and then heckling him later about it was terrifying.
The thought that at any given moment in my life, somebody might hurt me simply for being me... is terrifying.
But it's all too real.
This is how I live my life.
I have fears because I am only human, but I DO NOT believe in the concept of fear or believe in giving in to fear.
*I do not live my life in fear.*
I will never stop becoming independent.
Nor, I won't even stop going to Psytrance parties or anywhere by myself if I truly want to go.
I do not feel sorry for myself, nor would I EVER want anybody else to feel sorry for me. I chose to transition... and I knew that it would be a difficult road.
...but the difficult road was irrelevant to my need to be who I needed to be.
After I got away from the guy at the Psytribe party... he immediately found something else to occupy his mind and he was out of my hair. I told one of the party organizers what happened just to be safe.
One of the biggest complements I have ever gotten was on New Year's Day this year when I asked my friend Jefferson if he'd walk with me to the bathroom at a different day party also at Woodley Park. I told him that since the bathrooms were way out of the way. As a girl, it was just to be safe since I was wearing a short dress and boots. But also, I just need to be careful because *anybody* from around the park could notice me as trans* and start to harass me if they knew. I understand that most people will leave me alone; most people don't care. But there's always that somebody. The potential is always there. ...and the compliment that Jefferson gave me was "I understand your concern, but you probably have nothing to worry about... you carry yourself well." :)
"Hey Baby!" I hear from behind me. I don't turn around, but keep walking straight ahead hurriedly.
Then he rides up his bike alongside me... and turns out that it's my friend Tim -- heading exactly where I am heading. I totally laugh at the situation because now at least I'm not walking across the field alone. I point it out to Tim -- "notice how I promptly ignored you?" and we have a good laugh about it.
I've always been a pretty independent person. For most of my life, living in Texas, I lived with having almost No people I could truly depend on and call my friend. I had people I occasionally hung out with, but if you know my story (which I'm thinking of reposting), you may know how I started early on to extremely shut people out and live with myself in private. Very alone. Life went on. and on. and on.
I still lived.
...and yet I never let the condition of being by-myself stop me from doing any of the things I really wanted to do. I went out to eat by myself. I went to movies, concerts, and all sorts of other fun things by myself. I've traveled to Iceland twice by myself, traveled through Ireland by myself, etc.
I was always determined that if I wanted to do something, I wasn't going to be dependent on other people. Other people had let me down too much. Most obvious was deciding to move to California on a whim in 2001 because I needed change.
I still have this complete independence today.
Three weeks ago, I found out about and went to a good full weekend party happening at an Indian reservation out near Pala Casino north of San Diego. I love psytrance music. ...and it had been too long since I had gone to a great psytrance party.
I didn't try too hard to find people that might be interested in going with me; only getting around to ask one or two people. When it looked like none of these people could make it... I decided that I simply wanted to go. So naturally, I went by myself.
Imagine for a moment that every way that you've ever interacted with the world and the way the world has always interacted with you turns on its axis overnight. The new "way" is exhilarating, but it's sudden and you've got to take a crash course on how to experience it.
Literally overnight due to Transition, complete strangers smiled at me more, opened doors for me, offered to carry heavy packages for me, etc. etc. etc. That has been mind-blowing. On the other side of the coin, though, suddenly I started to experience cat calls and also, like any girl -- I had to become even more extremely aware of my surroundings and who is walking behind me. Gone were the days of taking for granted a walk to my car by myself through downtown streets at night.
I got to the party at the break of dawn that Saturday. For most of the day, I was there alone and enjoying it as such. It wasn't until later that I would see a couple of people that I knew. So meanwhile, I danced and danced and danced and enjoyed the beauty of the forest and then danced some more.
In a general sense, I always feel comfortable with the people at these parties I go to... or I should say, I feel comfortable at MOST of the parties I go to. Psytrance parties are interesting because there's something about the ones I go to that tend to bring out some of the most hyper-masculine macho males.
I tend to get a little uncomfortable when men are a little bit overly macho. The uneasy feeling is a bit of residue from the days when I'd used to have to pretend to be masculine. But nowadays, they do their thing with their friends... I do mine.
As the sun started to set, the music changed and extremely downtempo soft chill noise was being DJed as sort of a calm before the music of the night was to come on. Obviously, the dance floor became empty very fast. I was sitting on a chair across from the music and enjoying my late afternoon. I'll admit that I wasn't sober and seemed to be involved in my own little world contemplating the universe... when PLOP!! a chair gets put down right next to me and this guy sits down immediately wanting to talk to me.
No problem... I love meeting people. But as everybody knows... it's all about the approach. If I get a sense of initial comfort from meeting you, chances are that I'll be receptive to a good conversation and whatever else.
I didn't immediately feel threatened when he sat down and started to talk to me, but when he started to ask again and again if I wanted to smoke with him, asking where my boyfriend was, asking if I came by myself (Questions I've now learned that I NEED a 'canned' answer for) I started to get antsy. I knew he wasn't sober because he'd ask certain things more than once as if I hadn't answered it a minute before.
My opinion was that I imagined this guy probably gets laid a LOT being that he's so direct and knows what he wants. Some people enjoy that. For me, I don't have enough experience to be able to even WANT to be comfortable with somebody that macho and that direct.
He keeps pressing the questions and keeps pressing me to go with him to smoke. Remember: I'm not sober here, so my sense of judgment was skewed. I tried to be nice at first but after a few minutes, I started to get really uncomfortable. I tried to make an excuse to get away... bathroom sounded like a good idea and a sanctuary. I did my best to give a hint and to be nice about it, but he followed me.. pushing and pushing for me to go to his tent with him. About halfway to the bathrooms (which weren't far away), he got in my face.
"Just kiss me. Come on. Just kiss me. Kiss me." he continued VERY aggressive-like.
...and I got away.
In some sort of strange way, it was flattering that I was attractive enough to somebody to pursue me like that (even if they weren't sober)... but probably like most girls (or maybe even anybody) to be put in a situation where your comfort zone has been violated is a SCARY, scary place to be. I wouldn't want it to happen again.
UNLIKE, most girls though... I have an extra layer that I *always* have on the front of my mind.
Once again, Imagine the world I picture above with you in it... turned on it's axis... and now throw in the element that maybe half of the population of this world simply HATES you for being you. You've taken the most sacred of taboos, twisted it, and they feel you are throwing it in their face making them question their own selves.
They don't like this.
As this guy is in my face, making an all-out effort to get me to kiss him, in addition to trying to find a way to get away... my life was flashing before my eyes. If this guy only knew that I was trans*, his whole idea of his own masculinity would be challenged. Such a thought can really make somebody violent.
Ever heard of Gwen Araujo? Possibly not, but her murder was a high profile case of a transwoman being murdered because of who she was. Four men beat her and strangled her after discovering her trans* status. I do not know the details of how intimate she had gotten or not gotten with any of them individually without telling them.
What I want to point out is that the defense of these four men used Panic as an excuse for murder. According to this article (http://www.ebar.com/news/article.php?sec=news&article=153)...
[The] defense [...] argued that deadly violence should be expected or excused if it is committed in response to the discovery of a partner's transgender status. Defense attorneys claimed, to varying degrees, that the victim's "sexual deception" provoked a "heat of passion" response that lessened the defendants' culpability in Araujo's killing.
Thankfully, the jury didn't buy this "trans panic" defense as an rightful excuse to kill... and two of the men got convicted on second-degree murder. But this "trans panic" is a real, real thing.
At the heart of homophobia amongst men is violence. The guy might think... "somebody is threatening my masculinity?" and the most subconscious, primitive way of thinking is to ... well, eliminate the threat. Put down other people to make yourself look better... or in other words, protect your masculinity by taking out the threat... especially so no other person in your life might ever question your own sexuality.
Every day at work, I catch up on my news on all the websites. I try to get a broad spectrum of viewpoints... from conservative leaning sites to liberal leaning sites. One of the websites I frequent happens to be the American Family Association (AFA) website. I guess it kind of makes me a bit of a sadomasochist to read their obviously-biased new stories, but believe it or not, those websites a prime source of trans* news and a way I can hear about things happening across the United States. The AFA's website obsession with trans* news and gay news is so interesting because they seem to always be so "disgusted" yet they can't seem to print enough stories. It's reading the anti-trans* hateful comments on the articles that readers post that help to make me even more hyper-aware of my surroundings here in non-Internet life.
I grew up in Texas. I never knew any gay people or especially trans* people until I was in my late twenties. Not even in high school. I *know* the hatred people have. I used to be surrounded by it.
I've had my own share. If you knew me before I transitioned and before I lost weight, you probably know how I tended to stick out like a sore thumb. I literally looked like a big, bulky "guy in a dress". Yes, I did.
...and I didn't just disappear from my apartment front door and reappear at the front of the parties I went to that were thrown by my friends. No, most of the time I had to get gas or get money from the ATM or something. There were times that I got laughed at, pointed at, and called names.
There was one time that I went into the liquor store across the street from my apartment complex in Fullerton. As I was at the cash register checking out, I could hear some guy out front on the sidewalk start to yell as if he was a circus ringmaster.
"Hey everybody!! Look inside!!" he was yelling. "There's a half man/half woman in there!!". He went on and on and I was petrified because he was standing right in front of where my car was.
When I left the store, I bolted for my car as quickly as possible. The guy, still yelling ridiculous stuff about ME, had moved down the sidewalk a bit. His friends were all standing together by the vending machines obviously having no part of his rant. When he saw me... he came after me. I got in my car and turned it on. He kept coming after my car throwing up his arms as if he was trying to taunt me. It was as if he was trying to prove his masculinity to his friends. I drove off obviously relieved that I got away unharmed.
In the mid-ninties, way before I transitioned, I got beat up and completely bloodied because two drunk guys at a party though I was gay. I couldn't fight back on that one because 1) I couldn't fight, but also 2) I was drunk enough that I blacked out after the first punch and don't remember any of it.
Yes, I've had my share of homophobia.
But these days, I feel extremely lucky. It could easily have been me that was the person that was 6'5" and/or with the extremely large jawline and/or with the receding hairline. It could have been me that may never have had any hope of blending-in after transition.
Unfortunately, society places almost everything on looks. I've read blogs from people who when they leave their house, they don't even get as far as the street corner before people are staring, laughing, or pointing. It's so unfortunate. It's as if they aren't taken seriously just because of how they look and how their body masculinized before they decided to transition.
Mind you, I don't dwell on the negative. I keep my head full of positivity.
Yes... I count my blessings every single day.
When I first started transition two years ago, I used to ask my friends all the time... can you tell that I'm trans*? Is it obvious? ...and my friends would reply, "Why does it matter?" Well, this is why it mattered. At the time, I could not see myself from a third person point of view and at the time that my body and my face were changing at an extraordinary rate... I needed to know for those times when I was alone at the grocery store or wherever I was. I needed to know for my own safety.
These days, I just assume that *everybody knows* whereever I go. I even assume that the people that are going about their own busy lives and don't care... they know too. I know that there are always going to be people everywhere that just know as soon as they look at me. It's the safest route for me to be in.
Obviously, I *wish* NOBODY knew by looking at me. I *wish* I was born genetically XX when I was born. There are lots of things I wish, but not always possible. I wish I was rich, too.
Two weekends ago, when I met a girl... "You know I'm trans*, right?" "Yes".
This past weekend, before I started making out with a girl at the Bodyrock DJ party... "You know I'm trans*, right?" "Yes".
So, back to the Psytrance party... the thought of this guy making the realization of my trans* status was terrifying. The thought of his friends potentially seeing him with me, knowing that I was trans* and then heckling him later about it was terrifying.
The thought that at any given moment in my life, somebody might hurt me simply for being me... is terrifying.
But it's all too real.
This is how I live my life.
I have fears because I am only human, but I DO NOT believe in the concept of fear or believe in giving in to fear.
*I do not live my life in fear.*
I will never stop becoming independent.
Nor, I won't even stop going to Psytrance parties or anywhere by myself if I truly want to go.
I do not feel sorry for myself, nor would I EVER want anybody else to feel sorry for me. I chose to transition... and I knew that it would be a difficult road.
...but the difficult road was irrelevant to my need to be who I needed to be.
After I got away from the guy at the Psytribe party... he immediately found something else to occupy his mind and he was out of my hair. I told one of the party organizers what happened just to be safe.
One of the biggest complements I have ever gotten was on New Year's Day this year when I asked my friend Jefferson if he'd walk with me to the bathroom at a different day party also at Woodley Park. I told him that since the bathrooms were way out of the way. As a girl, it was just to be safe since I was wearing a short dress and boots. But also, I just need to be careful because *anybody* from around the park could notice me as trans* and start to harass me if they knew. I understand that most people will leave me alone; most people don't care. But there's always that somebody. The potential is always there. ...and the compliment that Jefferson gave me was "I understand your concern, but you probably have nothing to worry about... you carry yourself well." :)