Self-destruction
I've had a roller coaster of a week and really didn't want to write this, but I'm hoping I'll feel better getting it out. tl;dr I've once again blown an opportunity to have gender not be a big deal in every aspect of my life and am not happy about it.
I had to provide tax records for the background check on my new place to live, so the whole disclosing thing had to happen. My partner sent the tax records as soon as they asked for them, and then hours later I found out he'd blindly sent it without my permission when I thought I had some time to put together an explanation so they'd know I wasn't lying on my application. I send over my name stuff as soon as I could and asked if the broker doing the credit check could not share my old name with the landlord, but it was too late. It was really awkward, and at the subsequent meetings with the landlord and broker my pronouns were all over the place, when they'd been totally consistent before that. At least people apologized when they fucked up. I don't feel like I can justify being upset when they're trying, but I'm still really hurt that it was all okay until they found out about my past.
I'm being pretty consistently misgendered at work, too. I don't pass after all, in spite of wearing all the awful grown-up clothes. Brief interactions with strangers, even if they involve talking, are mostly fine. The bank is especially bad, but various offices on campus haven't been a problem at all. At work, it's all "she" this and "she" that. The faculty know and still give zero fucks. I especially hate when it happens in introductions, because then there are even more people who know me as female. And I can see that it's not entirely that I don't pass, because I'll be shaking someone's hand after being introduced and the person introducing me will then say "She works on XYZ" and the new acquaintance's eyebrows will rise when they hear that. I always try to say something immediately, but no one hears me when I speak in groups. (I want to blame misogyny, but the worst offender is a woman, so it's probably because I'm quiet more than because they think I'm a woman who shouldn't be listened to.)
There was a happy hour for grad students yesterday, and I had the worst social anxiety attack within memorable history. I felt like I had to attend and my new binder was comfortable enough that I didn't feel like I had to go home to unbind ASAP, which in retrospect might have been better for me. I literally sat outside the room hyperventilating for a while. Luckily no one saw me. I'd mostly regained my composure when someone from my research group came over, and I calmed down when we started chatting. More awkward people from my group came over, and we were all talking and I started to feel normal, that is, until I was referred to with feminine pronouns. It was so jarring and surprising to me, but I got my shit together enough to correct people, they verified the correction, and we all just moved on with the damn conversation. And yet I still felt terribly about it, just because they'd fucked up in the first place, even though I felt like I should have been feeling proud for standing up for myself. (Also, I felt extra awkward because everyone had a beer in their hand except for me -- I couldn't go into the room with beers because there were just too many people there and it made me nervous. Plus I'm such a lightweight I can't drink a whole bottle on my own, especially on an empty stomach.)
The issue is that in my head, I'm post-transition. I've done pretty much all the transitioning I want to do and am acceptably satisfied with my body. I even get to interact with most of the world the way I want to. The problems are caused by people who know I'm trans and let that color their perception of me. Now I see why people get so hung up on being stealth even in progressive places. I don't know how to confront people if I miss the opportunity as it happens. I call people out on it, but if they don't hear me then, it's hopeless.
Speaking of hopelessness, my uterus seems to be in its death throes. I was too angry at myself to use the cup for the first time since starting T. Luckily not much is happening down there, but it's more than nothing. . . I don't really want to think about it. Ummm, change of topic: I'm growing facial hair! But to discover this, I accidentally yanked one out. I honestly thought I was picking at dry skin where a pimple had healed. I don't feel too badly though, because it was neckbeard, and I don't think I'll ever wish I had more of that. I'm still amazed at how I don't have anything worth shaving in the mustache and chin areas, but I'm not complaining.
I'm nursing a sore throat right now. Y'know when people say a voice "breaks"? I think I broke mine when I was talking with people at the happy hour. I was pushing my voice way too far because of my own insecurities and felt something awful happen in my throat. I started coughing and hacking up mucus, and politely excused myself from the conversation. On my way out, I decided I wanted soup, my number one comfort food. I looked up ramen bars and walked to three before giving up because none had decent seating for someone eating alone -- I hate eating alone in restaurants and will only do it if there's a bar-style setting.
My feet were killing me by then because I wore shoes that are seriously falling apart, without socks because they're also somehow too small. I was still upset about all the misgendering of the day and decided I hated myself enough to do something deliciously self-destructive; I took the train in the wrong direction to get godawful corporate fried chicken in midtown, and that was satisfying in that I felt like I'd succeeded in doing something terrible to myself, which was in fact the goal. I proceeded to go home and stay up way too late, because I hadn't hurt myself enough for one day. When I woke up, my throat still hurt, a lot. The soreness isn't like when you have a cold and it's both too moist and too dry at the same time. It feels like I got punched in the voicebox from the inside out. My voice doesn't really sound different, maybe a bit more consistently low, but fuck does it ever hurt regardless of whether I'm speaking.
I did a lot more self-care today though. I cooked two (vegan) meals for myself with enough leftovers to get halfway through next week without spending too much money and eating things I said I wouldn't. And I got a new binder that's a lot more comfortable for long days and looks like an undershirt so I don't need an extra layer under my grown-up clothes in the heat. I'm going to go to work tomorrow because I know being a badass at science will make me feel better about myself.
I was cc-ed on an e-mail yesterday from my advisor asking someone outside the group for advice on our research project, and in it he introduced me to them with feminine pronouns. One minute later, he sent an e-mail correcting himself for his "stupid" mistake, but he kind of fell over himself in doing so. Today, I got an e-mail from the other student in my group who misgendered me at the happy hour in which he apologized for his "blunder" and then moved on with the e-mail following up on our conversation. I feel a little better and hope this means neither of them will screw up again any time soon. It still stings a bit though. Also, definitely having a period, and taking it out on myself by depriving myself of the queer/trans yoga class I usually go to on Sundays.
I had to provide tax records for the background check on my new place to live, so the whole disclosing thing had to happen. My partner sent the tax records as soon as they asked for them, and then hours later I found out he'd blindly sent it without my permission when I thought I had some time to put together an explanation so they'd know I wasn't lying on my application. I send over my name stuff as soon as I could and asked if the broker doing the credit check could not share my old name with the landlord, but it was too late. It was really awkward, and at the subsequent meetings with the landlord and broker my pronouns were all over the place, when they'd been totally consistent before that. At least people apologized when they fucked up. I don't feel like I can justify being upset when they're trying, but I'm still really hurt that it was all okay until they found out about my past.
I'm being pretty consistently misgendered at work, too. I don't pass after all, in spite of wearing all the awful grown-up clothes. Brief interactions with strangers, even if they involve talking, are mostly fine. The bank is especially bad, but various offices on campus haven't been a problem at all. At work, it's all "she" this and "she" that. The faculty know and still give zero fucks. I especially hate when it happens in introductions, because then there are even more people who know me as female. And I can see that it's not entirely that I don't pass, because I'll be shaking someone's hand after being introduced and the person introducing me will then say "She works on XYZ" and the new acquaintance's eyebrows will rise when they hear that. I always try to say something immediately, but no one hears me when I speak in groups. (I want to blame misogyny, but the worst offender is a woman, so it's probably because I'm quiet more than because they think I'm a woman who shouldn't be listened to.)
There was a happy hour for grad students yesterday, and I had the worst social anxiety attack within memorable history. I felt like I had to attend and my new binder was comfortable enough that I didn't feel like I had to go home to unbind ASAP, which in retrospect might have been better for me. I literally sat outside the room hyperventilating for a while. Luckily no one saw me. I'd mostly regained my composure when someone from my research group came over, and I calmed down when we started chatting. More awkward people from my group came over, and we were all talking and I started to feel normal, that is, until I was referred to with feminine pronouns. It was so jarring and surprising to me, but I got my shit together enough to correct people, they verified the correction, and we all just moved on with the damn conversation. And yet I still felt terribly about it, just because they'd fucked up in the first place, even though I felt like I should have been feeling proud for standing up for myself. (Also, I felt extra awkward because everyone had a beer in their hand except for me -- I couldn't go into the room with beers because there were just too many people there and it made me nervous. Plus I'm such a lightweight I can't drink a whole bottle on my own, especially on an empty stomach.)
The issue is that in my head, I'm post-transition. I've done pretty much all the transitioning I want to do and am acceptably satisfied with my body. I even get to interact with most of the world the way I want to. The problems are caused by people who know I'm trans and let that color their perception of me. Now I see why people get so hung up on being stealth even in progressive places. I don't know how to confront people if I miss the opportunity as it happens. I call people out on it, but if they don't hear me then, it's hopeless.
Speaking of hopelessness, my uterus seems to be in its death throes. I was too angry at myself to use the cup for the first time since starting T. Luckily not much is happening down there, but it's more than nothing. . . I don't really want to think about it. Ummm, change of topic: I'm growing facial hair! But to discover this, I accidentally yanked one out. I honestly thought I was picking at dry skin where a pimple had healed. I don't feel too badly though, because it was neckbeard, and I don't think I'll ever wish I had more of that. I'm still amazed at how I don't have anything worth shaving in the mustache and chin areas, but I'm not complaining.
I'm nursing a sore throat right now. Y'know when people say a voice "breaks"? I think I broke mine when I was talking with people at the happy hour. I was pushing my voice way too far because of my own insecurities and felt something awful happen in my throat. I started coughing and hacking up mucus, and politely excused myself from the conversation. On my way out, I decided I wanted soup, my number one comfort food. I looked up ramen bars and walked to three before giving up because none had decent seating for someone eating alone -- I hate eating alone in restaurants and will only do it if there's a bar-style setting.
My feet were killing me by then because I wore shoes that are seriously falling apart, without socks because they're also somehow too small. I was still upset about all the misgendering of the day and decided I hated myself enough to do something deliciously self-destructive; I took the train in the wrong direction to get godawful corporate fried chicken in midtown, and that was satisfying in that I felt like I'd succeeded in doing something terrible to myself, which was in fact the goal. I proceeded to go home and stay up way too late, because I hadn't hurt myself enough for one day. When I woke up, my throat still hurt, a lot. The soreness isn't like when you have a cold and it's both too moist and too dry at the same time. It feels like I got punched in the voicebox from the inside out. My voice doesn't really sound different, maybe a bit more consistently low, but fuck does it ever hurt regardless of whether I'm speaking.
I did a lot more self-care today though. I cooked two (vegan) meals for myself with enough leftovers to get halfway through next week without spending too much money and eating things I said I wouldn't. And I got a new binder that's a lot more comfortable for long days and looks like an undershirt so I don't need an extra layer under my grown-up clothes in the heat. I'm going to go to work tomorrow because I know being a badass at science will make me feel better about myself.
I was cc-ed on an e-mail yesterday from my advisor asking someone outside the group for advice on our research project, and in it he introduced me to them with feminine pronouns. One minute later, he sent an e-mail correcting himself for his "stupid" mistake, but he kind of fell over himself in doing so. Today, I got an e-mail from the other student in my group who misgendered me at the happy hour in which he apologized for his "blunder" and then moved on with the e-mail following up on our conversation. I feel a little better and hope this means neither of them will screw up again any time soon. It still stings a bit though. Also, definitely having a period, and taking it out on myself by depriving myself of the queer/trans yoga class I usually go to on Sundays.