Craving community

So this is where I admit to the limits of my assimilation. As I've mentioned previously I don't disclose my transsexual past to my neighbours, my workmates, my friends, or anyone in my town or even in this whole state, with the exception of my husband, and my GP, who is in Perth, a full day's drive from where I live.

Much as I hate to admit it, that can be a problem. I often have trans thoughts and ideas rattling around my head, and no sensible way to get them out. I can have a go at talking with my hubby, but he's a much more straightforward person than I am, so generally I'll not really get much past "that's nice, dear".

It used to be easier. When I was younger I lived in Sydney. When I wanted to connect with other trans people I'd ring one of the few trans friends I had that had made it through the vetting process (young like me, assimilationist, not clingy), and organise stuff. It could be a night on the town, or just lunch, or whatever. It worked well. I'd work some stuff out of my system, so would they, and we'd go home happy. A really good arrangement.

I also read. Voraciously. If you've written a book on teh trans, I've probably read it. Like all of us, I'm trying to figure myself out, and reading other people's words helps. I don't just confine myself to trans authors though (truth be told the retelling of the standard narrative often makes my skin crawl), I also like to read more critical works, by partners of trans people, both supportive and horrified, by radical feminists, by anyone.

So now that I'm living in the sticks, community is a little harder to come by. The Internet is an obvious place to find people to bounce stuff off, but because things are so open on the net there's a very real risk of losing cis privilege in real life.

You may not have come across the term cis privilege before. All dominant groups have privilege, with white males being the obvious example. Cis (non-trans) people also have privilege, being able to go about their lives without their gender ever coming into question.

It's reasonable to ask then how I, as a transsexual woman, have cis privilege. It's simple. Although I'm transsexual, I'm cisgendered. I don't display any particular gender variance. I fit most of the established norms of accepted femininity pretty well, and don't scare the horses. So as long as I never disclose, I get to enjoy all the yummy and delicious benefits of cis privilege.

That's conditional, of course. If people find out I'm transsexual, I'm fucked. So hence the quandary with the whole seeking community on the net thing. People on the net can be really nasty. Or just really clueless. So you've got to take precautions. It's fairly straightforward to do, and I'm sure plenty of people employ many of the same techniques as I do to maintain anonymity. It just involves a level of compartmentalisation. Keeping a separate account for teh trans stuff, using a pseudonym, never looking at any trans websites on the work computer or even via the work network, etc. Sometimes I've got to hold back on sharing details that could identify me in real life, but that's a relatively small price to pay.

It doesn't mean you can't get close to people. There are a good dozen people around the world that I've met on forums (my husband Betty) who I've met in real life while travelling. Like the transsexual friends I have back in Sydney, I trust them. It works well for me.