Saturday 21 March 2015

On disclosure

I recently read a surprisingly hateful opinion piece on "stealth" transsexuals, written by someone who I'd have thought should know better, Dallas Denny.

The intended audience for the piece is clear from the surrounding advertisements for breast forms. I'm not thinking transsexual women are her audience, let alone transsexual women who choose not to disclose their past.

Following links, I see there's a whole collection of articles at the Transadvocate site:

And I go on. For the uninitiated, stealth is a trans community term to refer to moving on after transition and deliberately distancing yourself from your past, of refusing to disclose the intimate details of your history with colleagues and friends, and even occasionally lovers. It's somewhat analogous to being in the closet for a gay or lesbian person, but comes after being out through transition, and has its own unique set of challenges and benefits depending on the individual.

Dallas' thesis, along with the other attacks, appears to be broken down into several (well worn) parts:

  • That stealth is inauthentic.
  • That living a stealth life is inherently selfish.
  • That stealth destroys trust.
  • That all stealthy trans women must be "hyper vigilant" lest their "secret" be revealed.
I'm calling bullshit.

I mean really guys, picking on stealth trans women? You go! It's the one demographic that probably won't read your piece, and even if they do won't be in a position to reply, let alone organise.

Much like kicking a puppy. It's easy, the puppy is unlikely to bite back, but is it a good thing to do?

Let's work through each of the four arguments:

Stealth is inauthentic.

As always, each of us is able to speak only to his or her own experiences. We filter those experiences through our own sense of identity. My identity (and the reason that I strongly prefer the term transsexual - meaning someone who identifies as the sex opposite that which they were assigned at birth - to transgender - someone who transgresses social gender norms) is strongly female. At the same time, I'm not delusional. I know that I was born with male genitalia and was assigned male, and that I most likely (though I haven't checked, have you?) have XY chromosomes.

But I'm talking identity. My gender identity is female. It's not trans.

Just roll that sentence around a little. Go back over it, read it again. I identify as female. That's why I'm transsexual, because I was assigned male at birth but identify as female.

So, given that, according to my little head, I'm female, where's the authenticity in telling people I'm not? How exactly does that work? How does that help my sense of worth, of authenticity?

I suspect that Dallas is making the same mistake that we all make, of gendering others based on our preconceived notions of gender. She sees trans woman and fixates on the trans part. For her that's the important stuff. After all, it appears to be a really big part of her life. Just a teeny, tiny pity that it completely invalidates so many other people's identities and lived experiences.

Onto the selfish part.

I make contributions to society. I have a pretty rewarding professional career. I pay my taxes. I mentor young professional women in my organisation and am active in my workplace diversity committee. I'm active in my local small town community, and get along quite well, thank you very much. I'm socially progressive and see myself as a strong ally for LGBT people.

Now for some speculation. If I disclosed my transsexual history to my colleagues I very-much doubt I'd be in the position I'm in. I transitioned in my early twenties, before starting my career. I don't have the decades of male privilege that so many of the holier-than-thou late transitioners carry to get them to their successful places.

I know how my workmates and friends view LGBT people. They're not actively nasty, but their idea of trans people isn't that far past Priscilla. I'm absolutely certain that if I'd been open to all and sundry and confessed my transsexuality throughout my career, I, well, wouldn't have a career. I'd never have gotten the job in the first place. I'd be living in a trans ghetto somewhere on the dole, or working a menial job and fearing the sack.

Ironically, one of the things that would make it hard for me to maintain a decent job is my own dysphoria. Back when I was a child and teen, being continually misgendered really did my head in. It made it incredibly difficult to function. Think drug and alcohol abuse. Suicide attempts. Ungood stuff. Living authentically (by not disclosing) has allowed me to really blossom.

Frankly, I'm successful because I don't disclose.

Destroying trust

The trust one is an interesting thought. I confess to not really understanding what Dallas is getting at. I suppose if one comes at the whole thing from the position that transsexual women aren't "really" women, then claiming oneself is female does indeed destroy trust. Gets us back to the authenticity argument. I feel I'm living authentically by not disclosing. My perception of gender might be different to yours. I'm afraid you're going to have to deal with it.

There's really only one person in my life who deserves to know my past, and that's my husband. For our relationship it's important. He knows why I can't have (more) kids, and he's okay with that. For everyone else, what has or hasn't been between my legs is none of their business.

Hyper Vigilance

So the last bit of Dallas' thesis is the hyper vigilance one. The "they're going to find out eventually, might as well out myself straight away" bit.

A lot of people view the sexes almost as different species. The whole "men are from Mars, women are from Venus" thing. I see these attitudes professionally. "Such and such can't be good at math, she's a girl!" It's the foundation upon which a whole lot of misogyny is based.

In truth, there's not a hell of a lot of physical difference between men and women. Men on average are taller. Men on average are heavier built, and often have bigger feet and hands. Women are in general less hairy, shorter. Men most always have penises. Women most always have vaginas and breasts.

Everybody has nipples, though.

Sex differentiation in humans happens both in the womb, where the genitals and reproductive system form, and from puberty, where secondary sex characteristics (breasts, voice, body hair, musculature, height) develop. The puberty process isn't a sudden switch though. It happens gradually, over more than a decade.

I transitioned in the stone ages. The very early nineties. I went through the rather infamous Monash Gender Clinic, in Melbourne. At the time many transsexual people (myself included) got going in their transitions fairly promptly, or else were shown the door by the clinics. I personally got onto a program at about 22 years of age. I'd been doing illicit hormones of one form or another for about 18 months before I got the courage up to talk to a doctor.

In any case, when you transition in your teens or early twenties, unless you're really unlucky, you're not going to be strongly sexed one way or another. So it's easier.

In my own case transition was tumultuous. They usually were back then. I lost my job not long after and decided to go back to uni. The university was in another state, so I packed my bags and made a fresh start. By that point I was happily out of the clockable phase. No one asked. I never told. I got my birth certificate changed as soon as I was legally able and the old one is sealed. The way the program worked at Monash you never really met other transsexual people. I had a few friends, but aside from the trans thing we didn't really have anything in common and went our separate ways.

Fifteen years ago, when I was in my late twenties, I was riding a bicycle and was hit by a car. I was knocked out and woke up in hospital. I guess you could say I wasn't exactly at my best in terms of presentation. No dramas though. Not a hint of anything untoward.

Like many young transitioners I have no past to google. I'm not unusually tall, or unusually muscular. I have no Adams apple and don't have a particularly prominent brow ridge or jaw. I'm not particularly attractive, but I'm also not unattractive. I am exactly what you see. No more, no less.

But then, I'm not Dallas' readership. I have no use for breast forms.

I guess in conclusion we all have to remember that we come from different perspectives. Each of us has their own unique identity and set of circumstances, and it's really nasty to dismiss people as inauthentic because they don't fit your ideas of what an activist should be. I'm all for activism, but frankly I draw the line at martyrdom.

Oh Hai!

So here I am. I've created a vanity blog.

I guess if it's all about me, I should talk about myself then. I'm a forty-something professional, mother of two wonderful children (now adults) from my previous marriage. I'm onto my second go now, and have been happily married this time for getting on to ten years. My hubby is wonderful and patient and we have a really strong healthy relationship. We live in a wonderful house in a small town with our seriously spoilt cat.

I'm Australian, and am a fan of Australian Rules football, having been born in Melbourne, the home of footy. Fair warning. I'm a proud Collingwood supporter, so I have very biased views on the game.

I love the outdoors, I love music, and have an enormous collection of sad eighties pop and rock. I'm an unashamedly great cook, and subscribe to the Maggie Beer philosophy on food, with a deep appreciation of traditional provincial recipes and slow food. I have rather more well-used Le Creuset enamelled cast iron pots than is perhaps healthy, and as a result we're all (including the cat) a little overweight and should look after ourselves better.

Oh, and I'm a transsexual woman.

Which gets me onto my reason for this blog. The moment you read that you formed an opinion, didn't you? I dare say an opinion that's influenced by some pretty sensationalist media. By the Daily Telegraph, perhaps? A little bit of "Orange is the New Black", maybe some of that Jenner person from the Kardashians? Perhaps some "Transparent"? Oprah? All so, utterly wrong.

When you wander around the internet, in my experience you encounter three broad groupings of trans people. Our "public face", if you will:

  • Professional trans people. Jennifer Boylan is the example that springs straight to mind. She's an established academic who transitioned in her forties as a professor of English Literature, did a couple of spots on Oprah and Larry King, wrote a memoir and cashed in on her notoriety.
  • Celebrities. When I was young it was Boy George and Tula. Now it's more likely Laverne Cox or Andreja Pejic. Oh so representative.
  • The publicly transitioning and genderqueer. This is two groups, I know, but from the outside they can be hard to separate. They fill forums and blogs with drama and agony. Relationships going south, unemployment, discrimination, bad things.
Anyway, there's a fourth group, and I'm a member of that group. We live next door to you in suburbia. You don't know we're transsexual and you never will. We live our lives and go to work and get on with it just like you do. We're just as boring as you are.

So more on me. I had a pretty rough childhood due to gender stuff. As a result I'm estranged from my parents and most of my siblings. I haven't seen or talked to my parents in more than twenty years. My mum passed away a couple of years ago (I didn't go to the funeral) and I was relieved more than sad. Relieved that the one sibling who I do maintain vague contact will give up on his periodic attempts to reconcile the family.

Anyway, like a surprisingly large number of queer kids I got in trouble as a teen, had a couple of babies, and did the shotgun wedding thing. Like most queer kids in that situation it didn't stick. Getting married only postponed the inevitable, and then only by a couple of years. I divorced and transitioned at 23, went back to uni, got my shit in a pile and made a decent life for myself.

So now the only person who I have any regular contact with in real life that knows I'm transsexual is my husband. My kids have moved on and live a long way away, and I've got a ruthless knack for cutting ties.

So yeah, that, in a nutshell, is me. Anything that could identify me in real life carefully omitted. Names changed to protect the innocent and all that.

I'm often frustrated by what I read regarding trans subjects, and occasionally wish I had a place to air my views. I hope this is it.