Darkside Rainbow

Thomas Beatie has been on my mind a lot lately, mainly because I’ve been wondering what I would do in his situation, and if I could even go through with what he’s doing. One question led to another, and suddenly a million chaotic theories and thoughts were chasing each other around my mind, issues related to reproductive rights, societal behavior… everything. And out of that came more questions still - well, you see where this is going. Although these are questions that I asked myself (or more like rationalized out along a train of thought), I’d like to ask you as well. I’ll provide my own answers below each question; I’d like to hear your answers in the comments.

1. If you’re male or FtM, imagine that you’re capable of conceiving and carrying a child to term. If you’re female or MtF, imagine that you’re capable of impregnating a partner. If you could and your partner wanted it (whether it’s the only option for childbirth or one of many), would you?

Not just no, hell no - mainly because children give me the creepy-crawlies and I’m about as child-friendly as ball pool filled with rusty razor blades. I think people should have the right to pursue such avenues (such as a transwoman impregnating a biological female, or a transmale being impregnated by a biological male/artificial insemination) if that’s what makes them happiest, as it shouldn’t matter how the child was brought into the world or which parent was involved in what part of conception as long as neither parent was harmed and the child is wanted and happy. I just couldn’t do it myself, and any partner who asked me to wouldn’t be someone I’d end up with long-term, because it tends to ruin relationships if your partner doesn’t respect your decisions about children - whether you want them or not. Besides, I may have an extremely high pain threshold, but not high enough to squeeze something the size of a basketball out of any orifice of my body. No thank you, though I admire those who can.

2. Do you believe that doctors have the right to refuse treatment to patients based on their personal beliefs?

Again, hell no. I think doctors have a moral obligation above their personal beliefs, and that moral obligation is to see to the health and well-being of all their patients - which means performing procedures that they might not morally agree with. Can you imagine what would have happened to Thomas Beatie if every available doctor refused to treat his ectopic pregnancy because of personal beliefs? He could have died. The obligation to a patient’s life and its preservation stands far above any personal or religious beliefs. As long as the procedure is not damaging to the patient’s or anyone else’s mental or physical well-being, then yes, the doctor is obligated to perform it, and perform it to the best of their abilities. I can’t refuse to do one of my writing projects just because I object to my client’s obnoxiously masturbatory self-image based on my personal beliefs, and my work doesn’t even affect one’s health.

This can get into shady grey areas when it comes to optional procedures such as cosmetic surgeries or gender reassignment surgeries, but I’ll cover that in my answer to the next question, as I think that relates to safeguarding the patient’s mental well-being as well when it comes to allowing them to live happily as their chosen self without the struggles (depression, stress, etc.) that can come from being denied what they need.

3. Specifically in relation to reproductive rights: Do you think that doctors have the right to refuse to perform vasectomies on men or hysterectomies, tubal ligations, or implantation of contraceptive devices in women and FtMs based on their eligibility to breed?

…only in very specific situations, and only with consultation from an unbiased outside party.

Before you crucify me: I think that anyone, male or female, should have full control of their bodies and definitely of their reproductive systems - but I do understand somewhat why some doctors deny patients. Many doctors have been victims of malpractice suits by patients who said they wanted a certain surgery, then years later changed their minds, couldn’t have it reversed, and sued their doctor for allowing them to go through with the decision and rendering them unable to conceive. That’s one reason that doctors often deny people who are still of safe childbearing age.

But there are other reasons that I really can’t agree with - mainly patriarchal and religious stances that value a person’s ability to breed above the person themselves, their desires, and their health. Even if it would make them miserable, even if they’re staunchly against ever having children and are quite certain of their own minds, they’re told placidly that they’ll change their minds (because of course everyone wants children, it’s inconceivable that someone wouldn’t) and denied contraceptive surgeries…even if they’re getting them not to avoid children, but to transition from one gender to the other. Some people even view people who have such surgeries as sluts, who just want those surgeries so they can have indiscriminate sex with anyone and anything moving.

Those views, restrictive and condescending and dehumanizing, I cannot abide. Yes, some people do change their minds and regret it later, because they made hasty, impulsive decisions - but there are people capable of making up their minds after lengthy self-analysis, and there are perfectly normal, respectable people who just don’t want children. Ever.

The problem arises when asking a doctor to determine which is which. While a physician or surgeon is a licensed health professional, not so many serve double duty as a licensed mental health professional, capable of determining if a person is capable of making this decision in an educated adult fashion. The easiest way is just to say no, period, unless they can determine that the person is in actual physical danger and requires the procedure.

Or you could just bring in a licensed therapist.

Seriously; that would keep everyone’s balls out of the grinder. Why not make 6 months of professional therapy a pre-surgical requirement? The therapist would counsel the person on their reasons for wanting surgery to remove or limit their reproductive organs, whether it’s gender reassignment or just a serious desire not to have children, make them aware of the eventualities and pitfalls, ask all the right questions so that they analyze their motivations and don’t make the wrong decision…and at the end of the six months, determine if they’re in sound enough mind to be certain of the decision. At the end of the 6 months, both the therapist and the patient sign off on the counseling, with the patient also agreeing that they still stand by their decision and thus can’t sue the therapist or surgeon for malpractice. With that signature from the therapist, the doctor should then be bound by law to perform the procedure.

Wishful thinking, eh? Then again, there’s also the problem that the burden of personal beliefs then shifts to the therapist, who could still make judgments based on personal beliefs whether they’re supposed to or not and even though they’re trained to offer counsel without personal influence.

Then again, it’s my experience that mental health professionals are better equipped to handle these things than doctors, and can be a bit less biased…or at least put aside their bias more easily.

…now stop looking at me like that. I went to therapy voluntarily for a few months so I could kick my familial issues to the curb and get on with my life. I’m crazy, but I’m not that crazy.

So what are your answers? Would you, could you, should you?

thomas and nancy beatie, pregnant transman, male pregnancy, gender dysphoria, transgenders, transsexuals, mtf, ftm, m2f, f2m, gender identity disorder, reproductive rights, reproductive surgeries, hysterectomy, vasectomy, omg!babies!

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Fellow 451 Press writer Randi Morse of Brad Pitt Watch recently tipped me off to an article about a young transman, Thomas Beatie, and his wife, who are soon expecting a new baby - a daughter, to be exact.

The news here?

Out of necessity caused by the wife’s inability to conceive due to medical issues, the infant was conceived through artificial insemination and will be carried to term inside the husband’s womb.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that many of my fellow 451 Press-ers were shocked, disconcerted, or downright confused; one even said that the child should never know that her father gave birth to her that way, as it might confuse her - a stance I disagree with vehemently, although I respect the writer enough to know that she has valid reasons for that opinion, and respect her right to that opinion.

To me, this didn’t seem so odd - but then again, I’m biased. 60% of my extended circle of acquaintances and a couple of my closer friends are transmen or transwomen, so I’m quite used to the gender-bending oddities that happen when their gender identities clash with their birth anatomy. I’ve had to be the “wing man” escorting a transguy into the men’s bathroom for the first time so he wouldn’t get nervous and run, and to warn him if anyone came in who might notice that the feet associated with the tinkling in the stall were turned in the opposite direction. I even know a gay transman who stopped his hormones so he could conceive a child by his biologically male partner, so they could have a baby that was part of both of them. It didn’t phase me. Hell, I even sent him to a trans-friendly physician; my doctor works at the local GBLTQ clinic and is pretty open to most things, so I figured he wouldn’t have a problem with dealing with a pregnant transman. I was right. And my friend was lucky.

This young man and his wife, however, have had to deal with hell.

Doctors have discriminated against us, turning us away due to their religious beliefs. Health care professionals have refused to call me by a male pronoun or recognize Nancy as my wife. Receptionists have laughed at us. Friends and family have been unsupportive; most of Nancy’s family doesn’t even know I’m transgender.

This whole process, from trying to get pregnant to being pregnant, has been a challenge for us. The first doctor we approached was a reproductive endocrinologist. He was shocked by our situation and told me to shave my facial hair. After a $300 consultation, he reluctantly performed my initial checkups. He then required us to see the clinic’s psychologist to see if we were fit to bring a child into this world and consulted with the ethics board of his hospital. A few months and a couple thousand dollars later, he told us that he would no longer treat us, saying he and his staff felt uncomfortable working with “someone like me.”

“Someone like me.” And yet someone like him was perfectly good enough to take a few thousand dollars from while stringing them along, wasn’t he?

It’s amazing how cruel people can be out of ignorance and misunderstanding. I know it’s a struggle to deal with concepts like this; I was confused by it at first myself, and have only come to really understand through good friendships and years of exposure to the point where it’s quite commonplace. But I can’t believe that anyone would deny this couple the right to have a child that’s at least partly their own through the means they have available. It isn’t Thomas’s fault that he was born with a body unsuited to him, and had to take what measures he could to be comfortable in his skin. And it isn’t his fault that he and his wife took advantage of the resources they had available in order to build a family.

Transpeople, just like gay people, straight people, bisexual people…all have the right to build a family to nurture and love. I don’t know the words to explain how much it upsets me to see doctors letting their personal religious values obstruct their medical ethics and basic human compassion, denying Thomas and his wife that right to a family. They could adopt, yes - but why should they have to, when this alternative is available? If Thomas feels secure enough to do this, why do people scorn and deride him? Are traditional male/female values and perceptions so important to the root functions of society that people can’t put their preconceptions and stereotypes aside long enough to be happy for the couple that they even have the ability to do this?

I know, gender is defined by biology. A penis is a penis and a vagina is a vagina, and if you have one or the other then you can’t deny that it exists. It’s part of reproduction and it’s a hard fact that people, whether trans or not, have to live with. Transwomen can change their biology much more easily than transmen, due to modern surgical techniques; they can’t reproduce, but they can at least create functional, cosmetically acceptable sexual organs. Transmen aren’t so lucky. Modern surgery hasn’t caught up to them just yet, so while transwomen can work their way past the “gender defined by biology” thing, most transmen can’t. But they live as best they can, and do the most they can - and they can’t be blamed for that. All they can do is be happy with their efforts and hope for social acceptance, because it’s better than doing nothing at all and living miserably as someone they don’t want to be. For them gender isn’t just biology; it’s chemistry and psychology, part of the mental chemicals that define us, our personalities, as male, female, or other. Most people don’t understand that, and don’t understand that the limitations enforced on them don’t make them any less male.

It’s not just society in general, though. Even Thomas’s brother had something unpleasant to say about his first attempt at pregnancy:

When I finally got pregnant for the first time, I ended up having an ectopic pregnancy with triplets. It was a life-threatening event that required surgical intervention, resulting in the loss of all embryos and my right fallopian tube. When my brother found out about my loss, he said, “It’s a good thing that happened. Who knows what kind of monster it would have been.”

I’m no obstetrician, but I’ve done a little reading on ectopic pregnancies, trying to see if it was possible for a baby to be born deformed from one and thus validate his brother’s comments a little more beyond callous cruelty. Unfortunately…no. An ectopic pregnancy will either resolve itself and result in a healthy birth, or has to be ended via medicinal or surgical means. Either a healthy baby is born, or none at all.

So Thomas’s brother is just an asshole.

If no one else will say “good for you, Thomas and Nancy”, then I will. I think it’s goddamned amazing that the pair can do something like this, and no, I don’t think it invalidates Thomas’s masculinity in the slightest. Hell, he could be seen as being the typical man: Mr. Fix-It, using the tools he has available to fix a problem rather than bringing in outside help. They’re fighting to create a family. I think that’s pretty damned awesome.

I’m not even a family person. I recently just told my family to go to hell yet again because my mother wanted to bring me home and set up viewings for me like I was some kind of sideshow freak, with approved lists of people who were allowed in to see the gay in his cage. I don’t want a family of my own. No children, no husband, though I wouldn’t mind a serious significant other. Traditional family units make me twitch in distaste at the wholesomeness and leave a bit of the taste of old Malt-O-Meal fermenting in the back of my throat. But I’m pushing that aside to hope beyond hope that Thomas and Nancy can build a stable, normal family, raise their daughter happily, and just by achieving that, give the f*cking finger to everyone who laughed at them or held them back.

thomas and nancy beatie, pregnant transman, male pregnancy, gender dysphoria, transgenders, transsexuals, mtf, ftm, m2f, f2m, gender identity disorder, yes I’m doing real tags for once

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Last night, while finishing out a shift on Old!Job, my friend and coworker Tere (she of the vulgar humor and strange euphemisms for the vahooter) sent me a pretty nifty link running on Colorado’s Channel 9 News. The story is about a 3rd-grader who just may be the youngest known transgender that…well, that I can think of off the top of my head. The boy has recently announced that he - now she - will be returning her home school not as a boy, but as a girl. She will wear dresses rather than pants, and ask to be called by a female name and use female pronouns.

Tere was a little concerned, which is understandable; she has a newborn and a two-year-old, and was looking at it from the perspective of a mother trying to explain to her children why one of their classmates might choose to follow such a path at an age when they may be too young to comprehend it. She even said she was worried that her own children might be prompted to follow their classmate’s example, were they old enough to attend school with her.

I found it hard to share her concerns, because I think it’s fuckin’ awesome.

In all truth, I think the child’s decision is a phase. He/she is too young to really be sure and it’s hard to make a decision like that until the hormones start to froth, seethe, and do all those other nifty little things that turn you into a sea of sex-driven stupidity for the rest of your life. What I think is fuckin’ awesome is the reaction of the school district, teachers, the child’s parents, and the parents of the other students. For them to be so openly accepting, accommodating, and willing to educate themselves and each other is absolutely amazing, and it ended my night with a smile.

It’s about damned time we saw something a little uplifting on the GBLTQ front.

ring around the rosie, pockets full of posies, upstairs, downstairs, we all fall TAG!

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You know what? I’m not in the mood for serious discussion this morning. It’s Friday, it’s been a horribly long and busy week, and I have one more day of work to get through (and about six articles to finish) before I can go anywhere near my Don Rodolfo Malbec and a few chunks of nice, aged asiago. So you’ll have to pardon me if today, I randomly blurt out pretty much anything that comes to mind, tongue firmly in cheek and heavy on the snark. It will likely be silly and pointless, but most of life is anyway.

First, I really can’t imagine why anyone would care if Lindsay Lohan is potentially swinging from the fence. Who gives a rat’s? Celebrities play on ambiguous sexuality all the time, especially those noted for bouncing in and out of rehab like yo-yos on Prozac (or LSD, or heroin, or whatever the trendy drug of the week is…). They’re not gay/bi, they’re just vapid and indiscriminate in their partners, and think a girl/girl kiss makes them as edgy as Madonna. This is news pretty much only to Slashdotters and other such socially inept dwellers in the parental basement, who’ve just found new fodder for their Lindsay Lohan girl-on-girl fantasies. Make sure to lotion up, boys. Your palms will start to chap pretty quickly.

Despite aggressive spam filters, I routinely get hundreds of spam e-mails a day. The majority of them are overly concerned with the size of my endowments, with a fixation oddly reminiscent of my cat’s unhealthy obsession with watching me undress. (Or unsure of what they want to say about my pen, as they start out so often with “Your Pen Is…” My pen is what? It’s right there, on the desk. What about it?) The concern is admirable, really. Too many men aren’t concerned enough about their sexual health, so all these lovely solicitous e-mails are a heart-warming reminder to schedule my annual doctor checkup.

I’m horribly distressed to see, though, that my spam e-mails just aren’t politically correct enough. They always assume that I have a girlfriend or a wife, or am desperately seeking one, or just “want to know her how she is from the inside”. For shame, spammers, for shame. Have you ever thought that I, your target customer, may not be interested in the young woman whose image you’ve kindly provided to illustrate your point, however lovely she may be? What if I want to know him how he is from the inside? I’m shocked and hurt by your lack of consideration, really. Especially since your constant comments that Concetta has a conspicuous f***stick are really quite insensitive to MtF transgenders.

Or is it a veiled compliment? Are you somehow implying that not a single gay man on the face of the earth needs your enhancement products, and that our online profiles tell the truth and we are, in fact, all gifted like John Holmes?

A weighty point to ponder, indeed.

Any transgendered individuals who read Darkside Rainbow will no doubt be relieved to know that, according to American Daily, your gender dysphoria is just an affliction indicating a disconnection from reality that should be treated and ultimately cured with therapy and prayer. Liberalism is also a mental disorder, transgender rights are ridiculous, and gender identity is pure nonsense. Prayer should be able to fix that, too. The FtM gay male he’s talking about in the article? Just a confused straight girl in plaid shirts and dockers who’s an absolute fool for trying to do anything that would allow her to live more comfortably with the lot she’s been given. There. Don’t you feel better now that Matt Barber’s cleared that up for you? Run along now, pray for a few hours, and maybe his God will be kind enough to “cure” your gender dysphoria and make you so happy with your birth gender that you’ll happily fall into your appropriate 1950s-esque gender role. Remember to start your prayers with “Dear Lord.” He likes being called “Lord.”

To close things off on a more serious note: I’m not a praying man despite my seeming familiarity with the Captain’s Almighty’s titular preferences, but if any of you out there are (well, or praying women, considering the demographics of my reader base) , keep Mehdi in your thoughts; the young gay Iranian is awaiting the decision of a Dutch court over whether to return him to the UK, where he will likely be summarily packed up and sent right back to Iran - and we all know that gays don’t exist in Iran.

I’m done, and out. See you Monday. Yes, I’m posting a comic on Christmas Eve. Just call me Scrooge, baby, and get your plebeian butt back to work.

~Adri

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As many of you know, yesterday was the Transgender Day of Remembrance, honoring the memories of transpeople killed because of their gender identity and violence against transpeople in general. I suppose it might seem a little trite when transfolk were conveniently left behind during the vote on ENDA, but it’s still important to show respect for transpeople nonetheless; a little extra recognition on one day can’t erase the prejudice they put up with year-round, but it can help to ease the sting just a little. I have several trans friends, and they held their own little TDR party to share their war stories of transition, their triumphs, and the overall experience with their friends, both gay and straight. (I ended up carrying one of them home drunk last night, poor guy).

I find it interesting, then, that this story cropped up in the news yesterday, right on the day of remembrance:

Losers: Transgender Candidate A Fraud - 365gay.com

(Riverdale, Georgia) Two people who lost to a transgender candidate for a seat on the Riverdale council claim Michelle Bruce committed election fraud by claiming “to be female.”

Bruce, who has never hidden that she is transgender was the incumbent in the Nov. 6 election for the Riverdale, Georgia City Council. She was the top vote-getter and advances to a runoff election next month.

But failed candidates Georgia Fuller and Stanley Harris have asked a judge to disqualify Bruce from the runoff.

[...]In their petition to the court Fuller and Harris refer to Bruce as “Michael Bruce” and ask the court to nullify the Nov. 6 results. [...] The paper reported that Bruce’s voter registration, her notice of candidacy and her driver’s license all identify her as Michelle Bruce, a white female.

She declined to say if she had had sex reassignment surgery.

“That’s private,” she told the paper. “The people don’t care about it.”

Now…correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s only fraud if there’s deliberate deception involved, and deliberate intent to defraud someone by gaining from their loss. The loss vs. gain argument doesn’t even work here because in an election, there’ll always be one winner and one or more losers, so of course the winner will gain from their loss. Michelle Bruce didn’t deceive anyone; not only is she legally recognized as female, but she was even open with voters about the fact that she’s transgendered.

I don’t see fraud here. I see two bitter losers latching on to something they think they can use to turn the tide in their favor. I also see a great deal of disrespect for Michelle and her transition, by referring to her as “Michael”. It rather reminds me of someone at my friend Karl’s job, who insists on referring to him as “Kelly” and who will be as nasty as possible about it. Fuller and Harris lost to the better - or at least the most popular - candidate, and lost fairly. They should just accept that gracefully, rather than launching an attack because they think Michelle Bruce somehow deceived voters.

Granted, the issue of deception can be a tricky one where transgenders are concerned, because much of the general public doesn’t understand the concept of gender identity and its differences from sexual identity. They view crossdressing as a sexual fetish that often has to do with being gay, when that’s hardly the case. I recall that not too long ago a transwoman who’d been living happily with her husband for many years was arrested because her neighbors found out she was trans, and called the police to have her arrested for attempting to deceive and defraud the community. To members of the GBLTQ community who accept transpeople and understand exactly why they need to act on their gender identity to live in a way that’s most comfortable for them, the entire notion of deception and fraud seems utterly ridiculous.

To the general public, who will go on complete mental lockdown if you ask them to try to reconcile a gender identity the total opposite of one’s anatomy, it’s not so ridiculous at all.

They don’t even mean to be malicious. Another friend of mine, Charles, deals with this on a regular basis at work. He’s pre-op, FtM, taking hormones. He looks very masculine, grows a beard, everything. Underneath his clothing, though, he wears a binder to flatten his breasts. He still has female anatomy, but to anyone who knows him, he’s very much a man. When he was first hired, the HR manager was made aware of the situation and she did her best to understand, and even if she didn’t she was at least very nice about making sure that no one else knew anything about it and he was hired on as Charles, not as Cheryl. One day he was outed in the employee bathroom, though…and once everyone knew he had female anatomy, they immediately began referring to him as “she” and “her”.

And they weren’t even trying to be mean. That’s just the way they’re conditioned; female anatomy means female, male anatomy means male, and anything else is just all in your head and should be dismissed. It’s almost a battle of generations, as current and upcoming generations tend to understand gender identity far more than their elders. We understand why it’s a matter of respect to accept transgendered people as their chosen identity rather than by their anatomy, because they couldn’t help the anatomy they were born with and in many cases either can’t afford to change it or, in the case of many FtMs, have less than desirable surgical options available and thus choose to make do with what they have. A lot of people don’t see that. They just say that you can’t possibly call yourself a woman or a man when you have the anatomy of the opposite sex.

Still, sometimes people can be educated into understanding. Many transpeople have had success educating their parents, so all hope isn’t lost. Even people like Fuller and Harris can be educated, if they’ll just listen and try to understand. It just takes time, patience, and a little understanding of your own.

And cases like these remind me of just why it’s so important that those of us who do understand show respect to our trans friends, so they know that there are those who do support them and appreciate them, and will help to hold them up while they deal with those who can’t.

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Lyndsey had her rant about this yesterday; I suppose today it’s my turn, ’cause we done gone and done it, kids. ENDA, the Employment Non-Discrimination Act intended to protect people from discrimination in the workplace based on sexual orientation and gender identity, has passed the House - without the trans-inclusive language.

And according to surveys, the majority of us are all right with that.

Do you know what the LGBT community (oh, excuse me - the LGB community) just did?

We just pulled a W.

That’s right, we took a page out of the rulebook of the man that many of us despise as one of the worst presidents in the history of our nation.

Remember “No Child Left Behind”?

Uh-huh.

Now remember the recent presidential veto of a bill that would have provided healthcare for thousands of children who don’t currently receive care?

…how many children do you think were left behind there, hm?

So what happened to our solidarity? What happened to human rights and civil rights organizations, LGBT/GBLTQ foundations, lawmakers, representatives, lobbyists, all so loudly protesting the removal of trans-inclusive language from ENDA? Somewhere along the way it died down to an abrupt and pathetic murmur, and the T in LGBT got left behind while the rest of us sailed on merrily ahead. I know we’re all tired of having to fight for every last tiny thing we get, but is that any reason to roll over and show our bellies and accept the little table scraps we’re given with hardly a fight?

Are we really so selfish that we’re willing to say, “Well, let’s just take it this time and make sure we’re covered, and we’ll worry about the transpeople later”?

Not acceptable, people. Not acceptable. There’s a reason we call ourselves the GBLTQ/LGBT community - because we are a community, no matter how much we snipe at each other from within. It’s like family; you may not always like each other, but you pull together in the end and support each other even if you don’t always approve of each other.

There comes a time when you have to pick your battles, and be satisfied with the small victories. This is not one of those times. If we start letting transpeople be pushed aside…

…who’s next?

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Sorry I’m so late updating today, kids. In a little personal (and yet at least topical to this site) TMI, I spent my early morning sending the boyfriend the dreaded Breakup Letter, making him the ex again for the second time in four years, even if I’m not quite sure he’s aware of it yet. I? I am going to happily enjoy being single for a long time. I go through about a man a year (better than a man a month), and I’m tired of it; besides, all I want is a normal guy, and it’s practically impossible to find one of those in the gay community. Trust me. I’ve tried. Anyway, I rather fancy the artful image of myself as the solitary, cynical writer, clove in one hand, drink in the other, and a stack of dog-eared manuscript pages on the desk in front of me while my glasses try to fall off my nose.

See? No such thing as a normal gay guy. [snrk]

Anyway. So I’m sure you’re not the slightest bit surprised to find out that hey, I wasn’t much in the mood for updating this morning. And I’m still not in the mood to go digging through the news for something to sermonize about. Instead, I feel like snarking on something a little.

Lately I’m noticing a growing trend in my site metrics: search strings that show that users are looking for a “gay quiz”. Not my Diva Quiz, but a quiz that will somehow analyze their personal habits, personality traits, and dress styles to tell them if they’re gay or lesbian. As if we somehow all share some uniform in style, habit, and personality. Really, a gay quiz should be horribly easy. And so now, without further ado, I present to you:

The Gay Quiz

1. Are you turned on by/attracted to members of the same sex, but not particularly affected by members of the opposite sex?
     (a) No
     (b) Yes
     (c) I like both.

Answers Explained

If you answered (a): You’re straight.
If you answered (b): You’re gay/lesbian. Wow, that was easy, wasn’t it?
If you answered (c): You’re either bi or gifted with a strong libido that doesn’t care whose leg you hump as long as you find satisfaction.

Now was that really so bloody hard? No? Then why does anyone need a multi-question quiz for that? Hell, it even works if you’re transgendered, as I know the gender questions can get confusing because some people don’t quite get that you define your sexuality after you define your gender identity. If you’re FtM and you’re attracted to guys, you’re gay; attracted to girls, you’re straight (and woe on the person who calls you a lesbian). If you’re MtF and you’re attracted to women, you’re a lesbian; attracted to guys, you’re straight (and hell will befall the person who calls you a gay man). Still easy.

Now if you’re androgynous/genderqueer/asexual…um…you just are what you are. Have fun.

I’m gone. I’m thinking this is a weekend to curl up with a martini, the cat, and a good book. Enjoy your weekend, kiddos.

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A brief bit of discussion on the delurking post from last week regarding an apparent minority of gay Republicans (who seemed surprised to discover each other here) made me start wondering about political orientation, sexuality, and how much the former is affected by the latter. There is a general assumption that most homosexuals, bisexuals, and transgenders will be far-left, very liberal, definitely Democrats whose major political hot button is always GBLTQ rights - but is that really true?

Out of curiosity I put together this quick ten-question survey for my readers here. I like learning about you guys (and gals, and everything outside and in between), and hearing about varying viewpoints from all over the rainbow spectrum – so if you could take just a minute to take this survey, I’d really appreciate it. You can answer with just the letters, or you can add your expanded views on each question; it’s up to you how much or how little you want to say.

Now I’m aware, due to the type of site that this is, that the general reader base is going to be a bit slanted in a certain direction - so the survey is more a sample of the general feelings of the GBLTQ community and its supporters. If, however, you have friends that don’t quite agree with you on GBLTQ issues and you think they’d be interested in the survey, feel free to send ‘em this way; I’d love to hear from them as well.

Enough out of me; on with the survey!

1. I am:
     (a) gay/lesbian
     (b) straight
     (c) bisexual
     (d) transgender
     (e) questioning/not really sure
     (f) asexual

2. My gender:
     (a) female (biological or MtF)
     (b) male (biological or FtM)
     (c) biologically intersexed
     (d) androgynous/genderqueer

3. My age:
     (a) Under 13 (what are you doing on this site, kiddo?)
     (b) 13-17
     (c) 18-25
     (d) 26-35
     (e) 36-45
     (f) 46 or older

4. My “out” status:
     (a) completely out of the closet
     (b) only out to some people
     (c) totally closeted
     (d) I already told you I’m straight, you daffy blighter.

5. My political affiliation is:
     (a) Republican
     (b) Democrat
     (c) Independent
     (d) Other (please specify)
     (e) Pointedly Disinterested (which gets caps because it’s a large
     enough faction to be its own party)

6. I consider myself:
     (a) very conservative
     (b) moderately conservative
     (c) a fence-straddler
     (d) moderately liberal
     (e) very liberal
     (f) I really can’t stand the terms “liberal” and “conservative”.

7. I plan to vote in the 2008 US Presidential election:
     (a) yes
     (b) no
     (c) only if a candidate I can really endorse is on the ballot
     (d) I’m not old enough to vote
     (e) I’m not a US citizen and don’t much care for your elections, aside
     from hoping you don’t do anything silly. Again.

8. I feel that my sexuality affects my political leanings:
     (a) only a little
     (b) only a lot
     (c) not at all

9. A candidate’s stance on GLBTQ issues affects my view of them:
     (a) very strongly
     (b) moderately
     (c) only a teensy bit
     (d) not at all

10. The political issue that I feel the most strongly about is ___________________. (No, this one’s not multiple choice. Fill in the blank, hm? I’m not going to assume what your issues might be. Feel free to elaborate as much as you want.)

---

If you don’t want to discuss your political views and sexuality openly, you can post anonymously; in the section of the comments field that asks for your name, just fill in “Anonymous” or “None of Your Business” or anything you want other than your own name or the name you use most commonly on the site. Also, if I left an answer off that you feel better applies to you than any of the options available, then write it in; if you want to address a related question that I didn’t ask, such as “Do you think party platforms make them more attractive to people of a certain sexuality?” or anything else, knock yourselves out. Feel free to discuss your responses with each other, or ask me any questions about mine. And if you’re wondering what my answers are:

 

1. a; 2. b; 3. d; 4. a; 5. c; 6. f; 7. a; 8. a; 9. b; 10. separation of church and state.

And I’m done for now. I may post again later today; I haven’t skimmed the news yet, so I don’t know if there’s anything in current events/gay life that I might find rant-worthy - though on an off-topic slant, some people might find this just a little infuriating (although I’ll leave any ranting on that to more qualified people, such as my various readers or April over at Her Daily News). In case I don’t post again, though…see ya’ll (yes, ya’ll, so shoot me for being Southern - at least I don’t have the accent) tomorrow.

~Adri

Edit: It’s been brought to my attention that in my sleepy thoughtlessness, I left “asexual” off the choices for sexuality. It’s on there now. Sorry for the oversight.

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Finally get my computer up and running, get into my e-mail, and what do I find? A brand-new Ask Adri question waiting to be answered. (…well, that was a little self-evident. I’m Captain stinkin’ Obvious today.)

Dear Adri:

I am m2f (or i will be soon).. I want to start crossing. I have nice clothes but I don’t know how to shave my legs. I’m afraid to ask my girlfriends because I don’t want them to know yet. Can you help?

Sassy

Oh, honey, first thing I’m going to tell you is to put the razor down. You may have been shaving your face since you were sixteen, but trust me, shaving your legs and shaving your face are far different things - and have no doubt, the first time you’ll end up cutting yourself, giving yourself razor burn, and twisting in a dozen of the most uncomfortable positions trying to get into some obscure places you didn’t even know you had until you tried to shave them.

(Why yes, I do know this from experience, and no, I have no intentions of telling you just how I know this. Suffice to say that the negatives were burned, and we shall never speak of this again. Ever.)

Rather than shaving, you’d be much better off with a depilatory cream. (Avoid waxing unless you’re really that into pain. I don’t know how girls do that to themselves - I really don’t.) Most would recommend Nair or Neet, though I find that Nair stinks to high hell and both can leave a bit of a chemical-burn feeling behind even when leaving them on for the minimum amount of time, and they don’t remove all the hair - so you end up shaving anyway. Plus the consistency of male leg hair tends to be a bit different from female leg hair, so female shave products don’t always work for us - just as the mess we use to shave our faces doesn’t always work for them.

Stop looking at me like that. Yes, I know too much about this. Hush.

My personal recommendation is No Shave Liquid Depilatory, which you can buy from UnderGear. It’s designed to remove hair smoothly from the male body, although I recently bought it for use on my face and absolutely love it. As with any depilatory, though, you need to remember that you are dealing with chemicals here and you should definitely test it on a small area of your body first before slathering it all over your legs. Don’t want you coming out looking like an overcooked bucket of the Colonel’s Extra Crispy.

Good luck and sexy legs to ya, Miss Sassy.

Everyone else, seriously. Stop looking at me like that. It was one time. In college. Shaddup.

Have a question you’d like to see answered on Ask Adri? E-mail your question to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Ask Adri Question” or use the Contact Form to send your question in.

Gay Republicans air anti-Romney Ad

Remember when I transcribed Mitt Romney’s creepy radio spot and spent a little time nitpicking it? Well, Romney’s own party has struck back from the rainbow quadrant with a lovely little TV spot:

 

Well…I wouldn’t really call that lovely, honestly. Actually, depending on how you’re listening, it sounds almost like it’s trying to sell Romney; according to the article, it’s highlighting Romney’s evolving stance on abortion. I don’t know. It’s just not very clear to me, and seems to have limited effectiveness. Don’t have much to say about it, really; guess it’s just too subtle for a blockhead like me. If you guys want to have a go at it, knock yourselves out.

Well, that’s it from me; I want to thank everyone who came out (no pun intended) in the delurking post and gave us all a chance to get to know you. The response (over 25 comments) was really a pleasant surprise.

Be back Monday with another No Style.

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Sorry I’m so late with an update today, kids. I’ve been working some fierce overtime on one of my jobs and running low on sleep, and I overslept this morning - not only missing my usual before-work writing time, but also making myself a little late for work. Oops. So this is the first time I’ve had a moment to sit down and write anything all day (which isn’t boding well for my second novel, either).

…okay, it’s a tiny bit my fault, too, since I stayed up too late last night watching The Fast and the Furious, enduring bad acting and scripting for the sake of a little Vin Diesel and some hot muscle cars. Hush.

Sliiiiiding right back onto topical discussion: normally I save anything transgender-related for my Thursday’s Transgender Tales posts out of some sick addiction to alliteration, but I think since today’s Tuesday my little literary quirks are safe in discussing what’s been going on with ENDA, the Employment Non-Discrimination Act, and the U.S. House of Representatives.

I’ve been following this with some curiosity, not just because ENDA affects the entire GBLTQ community, but out of interest in how it might affect several of my trans friends. Last week, ENDA stalled in the house when apparently the trans-inclusive language became a problem (I’d love if someone could provide me with a better explanation of how, as I don’t quite understand this), and was split into two separate bills: ENDA and…GENDA? Did that really say GENDA? Oh, shoot me now.

This, naturally, ticked off quite a few people in the LGBT world, and resulted in a lot of pressure from the activist division, especially with ENDA slated to go forward with transpeople excluded and GENDA slated for a later date. Now House Speaker Nancy Pelosi has postponed advancing ENDA, until further discussions on the provisions of the bill.

I’m hoping they come to some kind of resolution on an inclusive bill, because I have serious problems with segregating the “T” from GBLTQ/LGBT/however you want to write it. First, the separation into two bills presents a dangerous uncertainty; while ENDA could be approved, GENDA (I die a little inside every time I type that) could easily die on the House floor, leaving transfolks without the workplace protections afforded to gays, lesbians, and bisexuals.

Second, I can’t help but feel a bit of general unrest centered around the way we in the GBLTQ community already treat transgenders. I’d be lying if I said that we weren’t a bit hypocritically nasty at times; when we’re welcoming, we do it with great fanfare and open arms, but when we aren’t, we’re as cruel as straights have been to us. I don’t like the idea of further separating transpeople out from our ranks, when we should be working harder to pull together as a community. That’s why I’m glad the various activist organizations have spoken out against the separate bills.

I can’t help but wonder if the bills were separated due to understood differences between sexual identity and gender identity, and a perceived need to draft separate legislation to address both. I, personally, think it’s unnecessary. Yes, transpeople are going to require a few extra provisions in the workplace, but I think those provisions could be taken care of with a bit more specificity in an all-inclusive bill rather than anything separate. Drafting a separate bill is just causing unnecessary complications, and placing transpeople in danger of losing needed protections of their freedoms and rights in the workplace.

But that’s just my two cents. Hey, what do I know?

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To really understand transgendering/transsexualism, it helps to have an idea of what it really is, and its root cause. The beginnings of transgendering lie in gender dysphoria.

gen·der (jěn’dər), n.:
     1. Sexual identity, especially in relation to society or culture.
     2. The condition of being female or male; sex.

dys·pho·ri·a (dɪsˈfɔriə), n:
     1. a state of dissatisfaction, anxiety, restlessness, or fidgeting.

Breaking down the definitions of those words, gender dysphoria seems like a fairly simple concept: a sense of dissatisfaction or discomfort with one’s gender, whether birth gender or chosen gender. Gender dysphoria is a characteristic of what is referred to as gender identity disorder, though honestly I don’t like that term as ‘disorder’ implies that those who feel gender dysphoria are somehow abnormal.

They’re not.

The feeling of gender dysphoria is often the very beginning of the path towards transition; to make it even simpler, it’s the feeling that one was born in the body of the wrong gender. Your body is male, and yet you feel female. Your body is female, but you feel male - in ways that go beyond mere social identification and rest on a deep psychological level that often cannot be explained but that know, quite firmly, what feels wrong and what feels right.

The sense of wrongness associated with the feeling of being in the wrong body is what can prompt transgendered individuals to begin crossdressing, taking hormones, and pursuing surgical options in order to ease that sense of discomfort and align the physical self more thoroughly with the mental and emotional self.

Because gender can be such a fluid concept defined by more than one’s physical body, it can make transition very complex. More than just modifying or disguising the body to better suit one’s chosen gender, there’s also the matter of filling one’s gender role in society. Male and female gender roles are now more easily blended and interchangeable than they were as little as fifty years ago, but there’s still a matter of perception; people treat you differently based on the gender that they perceive you as, which can either help or hinder in feeling more comfortable with living as one’s chosen gender. It’s as much mental and emotional as it is physical, and yet the three aspects always depend on one another.

Imagine gender dysphoria as wearing a pair of shoes that’s two sizes too small. Talk about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes, eh? Only these shoes you can’t take off. They’re always there, always cramping your feet painfully, making it difficult to walk - chafing, blistering, driving you more insane with every day and yet you don’t know what to do about it, or you don’t have access to a way that might be able to remove them.

Not pleasant, is it? Now imagine feeling that way about your entire body. As if your body was an ill-fitting garment thrust upon the body of the self with no choice given to you in the matter.

And imagine that you were given a choice, later in life, once you came to understand your own gender identity and what you wished to do about it, and the options available to you to find something that fits.

Imagine the relief of taking off that ill-fitting shoe and walking free.

Imagine that pain, imagine that relief, and imagine it affecting your entire life, your happiness, and your concept of self-identity. Imagine it making you question everything, to the point where you can’t even allow yourself to become interested in someone for fear that they’ll want you for the wrong gender, will reject you if they find out who you really are under that wrong skin - can’t even comfortably walk into a public bathroom without feeling as if you’re in the wrong place no matter which one you chose.

Imagine looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger to who you really are, and then you may understand gender dysphoria.

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

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That’s right, today I’m choosing to spotlight a film and not a person. Why? Because if you haven’t seen this, you should.

TransAmerica stars Felicity Huffman as Bree, a pre-operative MtF transwoman, and the chronicles the adventure she faces in reconciling both her past life as a man and the inclusion of a son into her life. It covers a difficult cross-country journey in which Bree first appears to her son, Toby, as a stranger with a yen for helping troubled individuals - only for Toby to eventually discover, over the course of the trip, that not only is Bree M2F…but also his father.

The film does a very good job of covering complex issues that face the trans population of the world when dealing with society, family, and life in general, while handling them in a humorous-but-not-indelicate fashion. Beyond Huffman’s stellar performance, the film also offers a chance to combine education with entertainment and broaden the scope of those unfamiliar with trans issues in a way that makes it easier for them to accept and understand.

What I love the most about it is that it feels very real. There may be humor, but it’s real humor at the drollness of life rather than a slapstick attempt at comedy that would undermine the message underneath an evocative tale of companionship and self-discovery - not just for Bree, but for her son as well, and anyone who can identify with the search to be comfortable with one’s own life and one’s own choices.

Though don’t get me wrong, it is damned funny. And heartwarming, and tearjerking, and…

Oh, just go watch it. You won’t regret it.

My favorite quote from the film: “My body may be a work in progress, but there is nothing wrong with my soul.”

Amen.

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I’m still sorting through some submissions for TTT (Thursday’s Transgender Tales) and don’t have an appropriate one for today…so today, it’ll be me telling you a story. I hope you don’t mind.

Before I ever knew her as Kelly, I knew her as Keith. Keith and I worked together at my first job out of university, suit and tie all the way, a corporate hellhole that killed a little piece of me every day that I walked in and plastered on that false smile and listened to the little buzzwords thrown about like sticky, saccharine candy.

Keith and I were comrades in arms, the office queers. Corporate life is a world of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, military secrecy in fine-knit Italian suits, encrypted code and sexual espionage. We’d talk in our off-hours, sleeves rolled up and elbows on the bar at the nearest place to get a good drink, unwind, and gripe about what the weasels on upper decks had passed down to the lowly slums that day. Drinks after work became weekend hangouts, late-night phone calls, inside jokes shared in the office simply by exchanged glances, raised brows, and secretive smiles. After hours we’d be bursting, waiting to laugh, brimming with a dozen “Did you see–?”-s. Camraderie had become friendship, over the course of a few short months. We were brothers, in a way, stationed deep in enemy territory with only each other for support.

It was a few months before he trusted me enough to confide in me, however. A few months of Mai Tais and cigarettes and working weekends meeting deadlines screwed by managerial oversight, a few months of enduring company barbeques and picnics and griping about boyfriends and the local scene before he said, “I’ve got a secret. And you can’t tell anyone at work, Adri. You can’t. Promise.”

I promised, and that was when Keith introduced me to Kelly.

Kelly was a tall woman, redheaded, strong-shouldered, with the softest brown eyes you’d ever see. She carried herself awkwardly, uncomfortable in her skin; under her off-color foundation hints of stubble peeked out, and her clothes never sat quite right, bunched oddly in all the wrong places. Kelly had Keith’s pouting lips, and could have been his sister if Kelly wasn’t Keith peeking out from behind a face that didn’t quite belong to him.

To her.

She was nervous, the first time she showed me. Nervous and shy as a virgin, and even then she was pretty when she blushed, lowering her eyes and afraid to meet my gaze. I don’t know what she thought I’d do. Laugh, maybe. Recoil in disgust. Walk out, refuse to talk to her anymore. All I did was hug her; I didn’t know what else to do, or say. Just because he was now she didn’t change that she was still the same friend I’d known; I was a little confused, yes, trying to reconcile one identity with the other, but over time she taught me to understand, explained to me in the same honest and frank way that she always had.

At first I didn’t understand that she was turning to me for support, and shelter. At first I didn’t know what to do, once she made that fact clear. She wanted to transition fully, and hadn’t the faintest idea where to start – though she was willing to quit her job and start somewhere else anew, to avoid the awkwardness of coming out in the office. That, I knew how to help with. I helped her with her job hunts and dressing for interviews, helped her with looking for transgender resources, went with her to her first meeting of a local transgender organization. I went with her to local trans-friendly bars, made an ass out of myself shaking it on the dance floor with her, made an even bigger ass of myself snarling at the “tranny-chasers” who went after her looking to satisfy a few sexual kinks and use her as a fetish object.

I’ll admit I had no damned clue what I was doing. I’d never seen anyone transition before, and here she was asking me for help – but in the end, she didn’t need my help so much; just the support of a friend. She found her own way, forged her own path, and even when she curled her hand tight in mine while she waited nervously for her first meeting with a doctor about hormone therapy, I knew that despite her shaking fingers she was braver and stronger than I’d ever be.

She was brave enough and strong enough to openly proclaim that she would live her life as she chose to, and unashamedly step from the role that she was born into and into the role that she was meant for. I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard, or bear it so stoically. Over years I watched her change – watched as the estrogen affected her body structure and she softened and curved, watched as she struggled with adapting to feminine behavior, with changing social perceptions towards her, with dressing to flatter her body type, with disappointment on the days when she couldn’t pass convincingly to the general public, joy on the days when she could. Sometimes she was resolute, unwavering.

Sometimes, she was all too understandably human, and fragile. Sometimes she almost broke, almost gave up.

But she never did.

And yet she’d ask me some days, on the verge of tears, “Adrien, am I a freak?”

A freak…she was anything but. Every time I held her and stroked her hair, I told her that she was beautiful, told her that she’d made the right choice, that she was doing what made her happy. I never knew if my words really helped her, if she needed that or just needed someone to hold her while she spent her tears.

But I do know that in time, she stopped asking, stopped needing to be told. In time she began to smile more, began to bud, then blossom, until she was nearly giddy with the relief of discovering life as Kelly, discovering life where Keith no longer existed. Now she’s one of the brightest, most vivacious people that I know, and being in her presence can lift even my dour and humorless spirits. Sometimes I tell her she’s gorgeous just to see her smile, but the best part is that she doesn’t need me to say it for her to know it.

Yet I don’t think even she knows how lovely she really is, or what a triumph her personal struggle has been. To her it’s become normal, as it should be. To her every day is just like any other, a new life and a new world for her to explore, wonderful and yet no less acceptable than hetero life or queer life. I don’t think I even know the words to tell her how much I admire her for that.

But I do know that she’s a beautiful woman, one of the most beautiful that I’ve ever seen. I know that standard conventions of beauty don’t matter when I look at her, because she is every inch what a woman is supposed to be, no matter how she was born, no matter how she looks now. She is a woman’s strength, she is a woman’s resilience, she is a woman’s softness and warmth and dynamic versatility.

But most importantly she is a woman - and to me, Kelly is every inch a goddess.

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

transgender tales, thursday transgender tales, transgender, transvestite, transsexual, crossdresser, crossdressing, mtf, ftm, m2f, f2m, male-to-female, female-to-male, gender identity, gender dysphoria, transition, transitioning, sex change

Today’s Transgender Tale was submitted by Jill, and was originally published in Transgender Tapestry #206 in Winter of 2004.

Rite of Passage

I have a very good friend named Jan, a married woman. We met on line eight or nine years ago. We struck up a conversation in an AOL chat room and were soon writing each other short notes almost every day. At the time I was married to a woman and presenting as male. I was still in deep denial, refusing to confront and come to terms with the gender issues which had relentlessly dogged me since childhood.

Jan and I lived three states away from each other. We corresponded for several months before her family, on vacation, passed through the area where I lived. Jan and I met for coffee. We had planned on talking for half an hour or so. Instead, we spent more that two hours together.

Over time, Jan and I found common interests and shared points of view on many issues. We would discuss religion, politics, her husband, my wife, children, careers, every topic under the sun but one; sex. Neither of us were looking for anything beyond our marriages. It was just not “there” sexually for either of us. We agreed that if there were a sexual overtone to our friendship, it would most likely get in the way. Neither of us wanted to jeopardize the specialness of the friendship. Besides, she could not quite put her finger on it, but she said I was just “different” from any other male she had ever known.

When I finally came out, I was scared to death to tell Jan. We had shared so many things, so many intimacies - but as with my family and other friends, I knew I had to take the risk of losing a relationship with someone for whom I cared for rather than pretending to live differently than who I am. So, over a very long telephone conversation one evening, I told her. She was very surprised but not shocked. After reflecting on the issue for a week or so, she finally said “THAT’S what it is, I KNEW you were different somehow.” Jan has been supportive of my transition ever since.

Prior to my coming out, Jan and I had not disclosed the existence of our friendship to our respective spouses; this was to keep them from thinking there was anything sexual between us. I don’t know where you come from, or how you grew up, but where I come from, a married male just doesn’t make close friends with a married woman unless something is going on on the sly. Now that he knows, her husband thinks I’m totally strange for doing what I am doing. In a way, maybe he’s right.

A year after I came out, my marriage fell apart, and I moved to Phoenix, Jan lives in another community in this same state, but that’s not why I chose to move to Arizona. It’s just a happy coincidence. We see each other every few months when she is in town on business, or when I have gone to visit her. The rest of the time we e-mail, and occasionally call.

Jan has witnessed the various stages of my transition literally from day one. She has seen me as a male; as an “out TS” but still presenting as male; as a newbie starting hormones; as a very rough presentation to the point I was read by the waitress one day when we were at lunch; as a budding woman with a softening of my facial features and small pubescent breasts; and finally as I am now; a confident, post-transitional feminine woman, who lives as such 24/7, and who is fearless about going anywhere in public any other woman would go.

This includes of course any woman’s public restroom - and therein lies the story.

Consciously or not, we interact with others in a way that reflects their perceived gender. Two colleagues go for lunch. It’s strictly professional, but he will still open the door for her. He does not, however, accompany her to the restroom. My relationship with Jan had, until that day, been similar, with the typical male/female dynamics.

On the day in question, Jan was in town to run some errands. We went out to lunch and caught each other up on all the latest gossip and news. After the meal we continued our discussion over coffee. We all know what coffee does. I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. Jan said, “Wait, I’ll go with you.” So, we, two women, trotted off to the ladies’ restroom, continuing our conversation on the way. We did what we came there to do, each fully aware of what the other was doing in the next stall, yet all the while talking over the partitions. We both then washed our hands, checked our hair and makeup, and returned to the table together.

Neither of us commented on the event, either during or after. The act of doing what she did was very simple; all she did was allow us to pee in each others’ relative presence. Yet by doing so, she forever altered what was left of any male/female dynamics of the relationship.

The act was a subtle, yet distinct acceptance and inclusion of me into womanhood, and into her space as a woman. And for that, I shall forever be grateful more than she will ever realize.

I’m sure many others are grateful to you for sharing this story, and on their behalf I thank you.

~Adri

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

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Why Thursday’s Transgender Tales?

Because I like alliteration. Shut up. Don’t question my alliteration before I’ve had my coffee. I’ll scratch a ho, yo.

Uh. Yeah, okay, I’ve had a little caffeine, you can go back to ignoring my morning crankiness now and move on to the article.

Welcome to the first edition of Thursday’s Transgender Tales. If you missed what that was all about, check out Monday’s post. In the meantime, our first tale comes from Jack/Mary Jane:

Hello,

I came across your call for submissions and thought it would be nice to have a positive story to add to your collection.

I am a very blessed man. I am a transgendered male with a very loving and accepting wife and family. And it’s mostly been that way all of my life.

Probably one of the most touching moments of my life happened one christmas. It was the christmas after my parents fully understood what I was all about. I used to go by pseudonym Mary Jane Capri (out of fear, embarrassment, I’m not really sure) when I first allowed my cross dressing nature to become fully public.

I had visited my parents one christmas. The visit was the usual fun, happy time. When I started to get in my car to leave my dad hugged me (he always does) and said “Tell Mary Jane Merry Christmas.” I told him I would and left. I think it took me a less than a block of driving before I started to cry tears of joy. With that simple wish, my father ensured me that they loved me for who and what I was.

Since then I have had total confidence in myself - which enables me to wear the skirts and dresses I wear (no make up or wigs here.) That’s not to say it’s been a completely easy-going life. There have been issues at times but nothing I haven’t been able to endure…with the help and love of my family.

Thank you for letting me share.

I think I may have gotten a little confused in the terminology used there, but nonetheless, thanks for being the first to write in, Jack/MJ. And thanks for sharing that story of having such a wonderful family. I hope to hear from and share the stories of many others.

~Adri

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

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