Labels

Language can be one of the most important things in the world to a Trans person. The way others think of us, label us and address us can make or break our experience in public if we don’t stay confident.

I am guilty of shrugging off transgressions a bit more often than I probably should. I feel the pain that my old friends and family feel about the death of my former identity. It was a scary . . . terrifying experience for me and surviving it is something I am very proud of. But I wouldn’t wish the experience on any acquaintance of mine, and so instead feebly attempt to protect their feelings by continuing to posture as though I don’t have any myself.

I knew when I started living as a woman, without hormones, that my time-line might be a bit lengthy before I am recognized as the gender I feel best expresses my soul. It has been almost two years now and roughly 99% if people still address me as ‘sir,’ ‘dude,’ ‘man’ etc. — seemingly more-so than they did when I was living as a man. Maybe to validate any errant suspicions. Or maybe I just notice it more.

I have two big, white looped earrings in either ear, wear all pink (usually), with a purse, headband and sometimes empty Hello Kitty spectacle frames with a pink bow in the corner.

I don’t wear makeup, which doesn’t help. Though I am diligent with hair removal, a good day usually means I still look like a barely pubescent teenage boy, which apparently is enough to garner my frequent misgendering.

It is hard, and honestly I avoid going out more often than not. I know that I have to outgrow Brendan — and that is going to take time. My loved ones call me Emyli — my kids and girlfriend see me as the woman I am. That’s enough for now.

Tags: featured, Identity

Category: Transgender Body & Soul