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:

• Stealth Doesn't Help the Trans Community
• The Many Shades of Stealth
• A Rant About MtF Stealth

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.