Journey

I am moving to Chicago. The first 25 years of my life have been spent almost entirely in my hometown in West Virginia. It has four perfectly balanced seasons, beautiful forested countryside, and all the pickup trucks you could ever want. Mine's red. It's mostly peaceful and I love it here, and I really couldn't have asked for a better place to grow up. It's just too damn small.

West Virginia lacks severely in two things that I need to thrive: frequent theatrical opportunities and a bustling gay culture. All I need is a foothold somewhere with access to these two vital resources. The dice have fallen on Chicago. Tomorrow I depart on a new adventure, one that's only limited by how awesome I am. I've packed my crafting tools and charisma, but honestly I wish had better armor.

Luckily, I will not be entirely without allies in the big city. Two of my friends independently migrated to Chicago in the recent past. One is an Electronica DJ and musician, and the other is a Norse puppeteer. And I'm a tranny who makes costumes and cobbles shoes. Come on, how could this not be interesting?

Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world.

It's More Than a Feeling

There are so many different kinds of trannies that I can't keep track of us all. MtF's, FtM's, genderqueers, androgynes, bi-genders, kings, and queens are all different enough to be justified in their frequently short tempers with people who refuse to use the correct word. Within our own communities, we are sensitive enough and knowledgeable enough to use the terms preferred by each of our peers. To most folks, we're all just gay.

This is, of course, insulting and irrelevant. Gay is an orientation; it denotes who you like. Transgender is the other check-box next to male and female; it denotes who you are. A lot of this confusion comes from the  LGBTQ grouping. It started out as the gay movement, then it became gays and lesbians, and it has continued to expand into a sort of convenient, catch-all category for non-straight people. That's total crap, though, because MtF's can exclusively like men, and FtM's can exclusively like women. Both cases result in a man and a woman gettin' busy, and that's as straight as it gets.

Over-categorizing ourselves is a lackluster prospect. The benefits are few, and it teaches that being queer makes you different. You can be male, female, trans, or whatever. You can like males, females, trans, or whatever.

You could be a person that likes people.

Girl Power

A coworker recently grabbed one of my tits at work. I'm fairly certain that he intended it as bro-style horseplay, but it was the first time I've ever shouted death threats in a crowded room. He saw me as a guy, and guys constantly bullshit with each other. When I reported the incident as sexual assault, my boss's initial shock of concern quickly lost it's edge. I was treated with respect, but it was clear that he understood the "sexual assault" I claimed as no more than a couple of dudes playing grab-ass.

As I continued to explain, there was a very definite moment of revelation in which he fully grasped the situation. In an instant, his view of me changed from a guy complaining about nothing into a girl with a potential lawsuit. I could feel complete control of the situation suddenly fall into my hands, and it happened the moment he acknowledge me as female.

My lawyer.

A lawsuit was in fact the farthest thing from my mind. I want to educate, not punish. I was focused on something entirely different; my employer had demonstrated to me that I now hold a new power: girls are protected. Generally, men are expected to defend themselves, while women are expected to need help. I'm aware that that statement is ridiculously sexist, but that doesn't mean it is invalid. Regardless of how accurate these assumptions are for any given person, the important point is that one's initially expected behavior is based on gender.

As a man, I have always been treated as competent by default. If I intend to portray myself as a strong-willed and self-sufficient woman, then I've got to earn those adjectives. Good or bad, that's just the way it is. And if I chose to, I could always just join the ranks of women who manipulate the impulse people have to protect them. I could be a witch.

Thanks David

Kittens: No gender, just cute.

Fact: Androgyny wins. No one is ever really quite sure what to make of you, which manifests throughout each day as a multitude of polite, awkward smiles from strangers. You may also be sure that you will receive the best service at all sorts of businesses; professionals generally like to avoid offending anyone who looks like they are probably in some sort of minority or another. Most importantly, you may wear anything.

At 3 months into HRT, the stuff is kickin' in, and I am gliding across the gender spectrum towards female. The changes are sneaky, though, and I never notice them from day to day. The thing is, well, hormones don't fuck around. I've manned down significantly already, and the process is ongoing for another 2-3 years. I may actually end up losing my androgyny. While I was out yesterday, I wore brown cargo pants and a leather jacket. A boy gasped in shock after he heard me speak, then started yelling to his friends, "I thought that was a girl!" It seems like my masculine and feminine sides are both becoming ladies. Since they're in the same body, that works out quite nicely. 

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

• My beard grows back slightly slower.
• My body hair grows back much slower and is much finer.
• My skin is softer.
• My face sits differently. I can consciously feel that it's not quite the same shape, but it's very subtle.
• My chest has a pair of painful, hard bumps, which are requiring additional layers of clothing to hide.

And it is awesome.

Turn and face the strange