Dear diary...

Just a diary entry this...


My long awaited second appointment at Charing Cross is just round the corner now (20th May).  I am getting a bit nervous because I'm just expecting something horrible to happen - like having to wait another year before anything happens...


Still, I should be able to get a report or letter from them to apply for my GRC in July - not sure how that bit works yet.  Becca asked how I'd cope if they said I've not done enough yet, but I think that's pretty unlikely.  I've basically been transitioning in every way I can all by myself, without their support - I'm sure that will count for a lot.


If I can get this far by sheer willpower imagine how much I can do with legal and hormonal backing !!


I am feeling more confident - I've definitely had entire days of being out and about without feeling that anyone is staring or laughing at me.  Maybe I'm just not so edgy about it and am not noticing so much.


I can imagine a time at which I am completely at ease - but even then a certain amount of damage has been done and that will take some getting over.  What I mean is, even if I'm not getting any hassle I am still waiting for it.  


When I hear people laughing on the street I wince every time, I'm always certain it's me.  It sounds paranoid maybe - if it does sound paranoid you're not understanding the amount I have been laughed at.  So much, every day - so many times you must get hard to it, but it's the accumulation of scar tissue that makes you tough.


Poor me.  Not really - it's just a fact, people laugh at me. They probably always will, but hopefully not as much.  And hopefully my extra-sensitive skin will heal over.  If you'd been there you'd be red raw too - believe me.


Anyway, this is no time for self pity - I actually feel pretty good.  The fear I used to feel is falling away.  I still do the same things but walking out of the front door used to require a certain amount of strength - now I just open the door and I'm on my way.


And if someone laughs on the street, hey, maybe they just heard a good joke...

Wedding Dress Blog

I can't decide if this dress is awesome or awful...!  I think the former, probably.


OK, wedding dresses.  Or bridesmaids dresses.  The ultimate expression of femininity maybe?  Or shouldn't that be a big pregnant tummy or something else more obviously empowering?


I don't know - I like wedding dresses anyway.  Most girls dream about the day they get to wear one - and girls who start off as boys are no exception.  Maybe they dream about it even more.


I guess if you're a boy aged about 13 and you are finding yourself dreaming about stuff like wearing a wedding dress it's a pretty good sign that something is 'wrong'.  That's 'wrong' in inverted commas because it's not really wrong is it?  Feels right enough to me.


When I was about that age I got the chance to (furtively) try on a bridesmaids dress.  It was light blue - that's about all I can remember.   It did feel pretty amazing.  When you think I'd probably been wearing a boy's school uniform earlier in the same day, the contrast was invigorating.


A few years before I'd been a page boy at my brother's wedding.  I was nine I think - it was before the hormones kicked in and I wasn't thinking about being a girl at that stage.  I'm not going to do that whole 'I knew I was a girl from the moment I was born' shtick.  A few years later and, oh yes, I wanted to be a bridesmaid alright.


Quite a while after that I told my sister in law about it and she said I could have been a bridesmaid if I'd wanted.  Which I probably wouldn't have wanted at the time, I don't know.  It pissed me off anyway that I'd missed my chance.


In the end I did try on a wedding dress - Becca bought one on ebay for the material and, yeah, of course I tried it on.   It was pretty good.  Then I took it off because it felt a bit odd to be standing there in the living room wearing a wedding dress for no apparent reason.  And Becca chopped it up with a big pair of scissors.


Your 'trannies' like to dress up as brides - some of them go as far as to dress up in full bridal gear and have wedding pictures taken of themselves on the threshold of the church.  They put captions underneath like 'any husband would be proud of this blushing bride...'


And to think I felt odd after five minutes when I tried on that wedding dress.  They're probably men in grey suits the rest of the time - executives and managers and directors... then they are a bride for a day.  It's beautiful really - shame they have to hide it so much.  Bless.


I'm too old to be a bridesmaid now - or a blushing bride.  Becca and I are already married anyway - and we've decided not to go the whole hog over our civil partnership when that happens.  I'd feel daft in a wedding dress now anyway.


Next wedding I go to I'll just wear a fab dress - not a bridesmaid or bride's one - just something...fab.  That'll be more than enough for me.

What being a boy is like...

I am quite fortunate really in being able to understand what life is like from the point of view of both genders.  As time goes on I will obviously learn more about what life is like as a female - I did about 33 years in the other role, so hopefully I'll live for longer as a female than as a male before I snuff it !


I'll never know what it's like to have a period or give birth of course - but I think there must be more to being a woman than these things.  They are important but, well, plenty of women never have children so they don't know what that's like any more than me.  Pre-pubescant and post-menopausal women are still women even though they don't have periods.  And the very experience of menstruation varies widely from women who have no trouble at all with it, to women who have an awful time every month.  We're all different.


That's a different thing anyway - I was going to talk about being male.


Men and women are subject to all kinds of expectations from day one - how much of a problem that is depends on whether you happen to fit in your given category comfortably.  Boys are encouraged to compete with each other and so that's what you get a lot of when you're growing up - running fastest and kicking balls hardest.


As an alternative I suppose there's the 'geek' identity - you can get into sci-fi and enjoy making lists of things.  In all this I don't know whether boys do these things because their brains just work that way or whether they learn to be the way they are.  Same with girls.  As a sociologist, academically speaking, I'm inclined to think it's more 'nurture'.


Anyway, yeah, being a geek is there as an alternative to the competitive stuff.   I wonder where it comes from?


I'm a bit of a geek myself - I like science fiction and I did grow up with that geek identity.  Doctor Who was my thing, as for lots of awkward boys I suppose - the Doctor represents a non-violent, non-competitive model of masculinity.


Girls can be geeks anyway can't they?!  And unlike other Who geeks I know, I don't get frustrated with the new series being different from the old - I actually think the new series is better in almost every way.  But the old one makes me feel cosy.


This is turning into a Doctor Who blog.


So - yes.  Being a boy.  There's not much variety on offer when it comes to clothes - so is it any wonder most boys aren't interested?   Most girls would be bewildered by the largely functional male attitude to clothes.  I think the biggest difference is that, as a woman, you feel the seasons much more - they impact directly on your body as you dress differently, pick different colours, think about uncovering or covering.  Forget all that if you're a boy - the seasons make very little difference.  Imagine having your feet covered up in horrible sweaty shoes nearly all year round!  Shoes with socks ALL the time.  Oh my god - it's awful.


Boys have to manage without a handbag.  Having lived for many years without one I can't tell you what a revelation it was to start using one.  I can't really remember what I used to do - how DO they cope??  They bulge out their pockets with everything, that's what.   Now my bags get increasingly huge as I fit more and more of my entire life in them.  You can take my handbag - from my cold, dead hands...


What else?   When boys have a problem their friends distract them from it - whereas girls talk about it.  Both methods have merit.  A bloke who's split up from his girlfriend will probably get a visit from his mate who'll bring a pack of beer and they'll sit and talk about stuff and laugh over all their classic memories.  But I need a girly chat I'm afraid...


Women talk to other women all the time - you can always say 'ooh nice shoes' or 'I love your bag' and you've got a conversation going.  I suppose men talk about sport or tell jokes and stuff.  Not the same though is it?  I can't imagine most men starting a conversation with 'ooh nice tie' or 'oh I love your cufflinks!'   ha ha


So - this rambling comes to a conclusion.  And the conclusion - for me - is that being a boy is shit.  But that's only because I happen to not be one.  If you ARE one than I'm sure it's a perfectly great thing to be.  Socks... ties... pockets...  who could ask for more?


My view of gender probably seems a bit limited.  It's just what comes to mind - I know that, ultimately, there are as many genders as there are people and being a boy or a girl is what you want it to be...

The Poke and Point...

This is the well known Monty Python sketch called 'Nudge Nudge, Wink Wink' - and I've chosen it to illustrate my guide to the phenomenon I am going to call 'The Poke and Point'.  


I'm sure it's something which will be very familiar to all those people out there who (through no fault of their own, usually) look a bit... well...odd.  


Of course the funny thing about people who look a bit...well... odd is that underneath the oddness they're usually very normal and just like you really, poke and pointer, with the same feelings and emotions and all that other pesky stuff.  Tsk.  Now I'm making you feel guilty so you won't be able to enjoy poking and pointing anymore.  Tsk.


Anyway, poking and pointing happens between two or more people when they see someone who looks a bit...well... odd.  Maybe a transgender woman who is undergoing treatment for gender dysphoria and transitioning from male to female physically and legally.  Someone like that, perhaps.  Let's imagine the slightly...well...odd person is me.


So, the process starts when I make eye contact with someone else.  There is an interval of about two seconds during which that person reads me and makes a decision about what the situation is.  Their decision is that I am a man dressed as a woman.  Unfortunately this is a hugely wrong reading of the situation, but once made the moment is out there, the glorious poke and point moment, ready to be plucked from the air. 


The person cannot resist.  They simply have to move to phase two.  This involves them saying to the other person something like (I'm guessing here) : 


'Look, that's a tranny, definitely...'


We call this the 'poke'.  Phase three is a subtle and hilarious pantomime during which the person on the receiving end of the poke attempts to find the person they're supposed to be looking at.  They will raise themselves up on their haunches like demented meerkats and cast about wildly with gazing eyes in an attempt to find the 'tranny'.


It won't occur to either of them that the 'tranny' might be fully aware of what is happening. Trannies are insane perverted weirdos who wouldn't notice stuff like that and...well... if they did it serves them right for parading around in women's clothes.  Jesus.


If the meercat is unable to spot the required personage, the other party may just indulge in a 'point' - but it won't be anything as direct as a finger, it'll be more like a nod or, more commonly, a flick of the eyes in the appropriate direction.  Then contact is made - yes!  And there is sniggering.  I think that's the appropriate word for it.  Sniggering.


Which brings me to techniques to be employed by the person at the receiving end...    You can hide your face and disallow them the pleasure of the reveal moment.  Hair comes in quite useful for this purpose.  Or just look the other way.


You can avoid the initial eye contact in the first place.  This is the most common tactic and does work, providing you don't bump into things.  But then you might just feel like you should hold your head high like a human being with a modicum of dignity.  Oh dear, so much for that tactic then.


People say I am looking for the poke and pointers... but of course I am not.  Why would I avoid looking people in the eye if I wanted it to happen?  The only reason I can talk about it like this is because I can't walk around looking at the floor all the time and whenever I do raise my head to look at someone (someone with someone else - people on their own are obviously OK), then a P&P is going to occur in most cases.  


Half the time?   Yeah, I reckon.


A final phase could be added during which you approach the poke and pointer and challenge them.  They always, always, always, always deny it without fail.   They go very red, look astonished, and say of course not, no way.  No one ever admits it.  If they did, and if they just said 'sorry', that would be quite healing.


So there you go, the poke and point.  I suppose my most frequent reaction is to smile and wave at the meerkat as they flail about trying to find me.  It let's them know I've seen them and also helps them see the poor fucker they're supposed to be laughing at.


I'm nothing if not helpful.


Nudge nudge, eh?  Wink, Wink.  Say no more. 

Gloria is gone...

Can you guess what this flag is ?


...I don't know how many trans people there are in this country - I think I read somewhere it was one in every 4000.  So the chances of two working in a fairly small organisation like Maidstone Borough Council aren't that high.


Nevertheless - that did happen as Gloria and myself both worked there till she left last week.  I was pretty sad about that because it felt different not being the only one - and Gloria, being a few years down the line of treatment from where I am, was proof positive of how it can work.  


It was weird when I found out there was another one of 'us' - at first it was bit threatening I suppose.  I was curious of course - and annoyed to hear some people make stupid arsed comments.  Well I say people, actually men (ha ha).


When she started working with us four years ago I was less sure of where I was going, so it was quite important to me to meet another trans person (for the first time, believe it or not).  I suppose knowing her did influence me - did show me what was possible.


Strange how you want to talk about stuff but don't know whether you should mention 'it'.  Very British!  So we 'skirted' around the issue (no pun intended) but in the end we did talk about being trans - which I am glad about.


She asked me how my family were taking it - and I could see she looked a little bit sad when I said things were going quite well there - because I know she hasn't been so lucky.  It's tough - I can't imagine how hard it must be without the support of family.


But as she said, well actually we said it at the same time I think,  'living any other way is not an option'.  


Anyway, that's it - now I'm the only trans person at MBC ... that we know of!!  Good luck Gloria.  That flag by the way is the Transgender Pride flag.  That's what I have when I think about Gloria - Transgender Pride.

In the toilet again...

There's no way round it - the issue comes up again and again... the loo.  I had a (friendly) debate the other day about 'trans women and toilets' with someone who would never want to offend me, but just had to admit to not feeling comfortable about it.  


Because you tend to surround yourself with people who are cool about this sort of thing, I suppose you characterise the 'other side' as just being mean - so it's quite weird when someone nice is telling you they don't feel entirely happy with trans women using the ladies loo.


So let's think about it.  It might seem quite reasonable to make a rule such as 'you shouldn't use the ladies loo if you have a penis.'  Easy eh?  Why wouldn't that work?


Well because you might have been taking hormones for years and still have a penis - you might have started taking hormones before puberty and have never even developed secondary male sexual characteristics (facial hair, adams apple...)... you might be in the eyes of everybody a complete female... and have a penis.


Come on, we've all seen some trans-women who look absolutely mind-blowingly amazing - so that you'd never believe they were ever male.  Now if anyone saw them going into the MEN's toilet it would look a bit odd wouldn't it?


OK, so let's make another rule.  You can only use the ladies loo if you look sufficiently female to ensure no other users are worried by it.  OK, so who decides you pass the test?   I have used ladies loos for nearly two years and never been challenged - although someone did approach me once to tell me how much she supported me being there - so do I pass the test?


No one can make that decision can they?  It would be mad.  So let's make another rule :  you can only use the ladies loo if you've had surgery to remove your penis.  Right.  So you can't use the ladies loo if you've got every other bit of necessary equipment?!   You're supposed to go into the men's toilet and stand there and have a wee even if you have boobs?


We're getting into mad territory again aren't we?  Anyway, no truly trans woman could stand up to wee!!   I certainly couldn't.


So how do we decide who is female enough to use the ladies loo?


Let's say, horror of horrors, the lady in the cubicle next to you does have a penis which has yet to be removed... how will you know, exactly?  Do you make a habit of examining the genitals of other toilet users?  Of course not.


Another objection is that women might not feel safe with a trans-woman (ie - a 'man' in their opinion) in the toilet.  The implication here is that the trans-woman is likely to sexually assault them - that is what we're saying, right?


A trans-woman - a male who feels the desperate need to have surgery to remove 'his' penis and become fully female - is going to hang around in toilets raping women?    Of course, having received hormone treatment this person will be completely unable to 'achieve' an erection and 'his' testicles will have atrophied so god knows what 'he' is going to rape the other women with?  A cucumber?


This sounds like I'm being silly but when you think about it, well, it is a daft argument isn't it?


If someone can propose a sensible method by which trans-women should be prevented from using the ladies loo I'd be very interested - a method which doesn't just involve reversing the laws we have and making transsexualism basically illegal again.  Why not reverse the laws on homosexuality too?  Let's enjoy ourselves and take the vote away from women as well?  Come on!


The argument against comes down to, basically, 'I don't like it'.  Well, OK, I understand that - but you might not like the idea of flying but that doesn't mean aeroplanes should be banned does it?


When the Gender Recognition Act came in (2004) there was a major change in the politics of gender in this country.  For the first time your gender became, legally, what you felt it to be.  With the agreement of a trained clinician and having completed the two year 'real life test' of living in your chosen gender role.


There's another thing - I haven't even got a gender recognition certificate yet, but to get one I have to complete my two years living in my chosen gender role.  My chosen gender role is female (actually I don't have a choice about that).  Females use the ladies loo.  That's that.


Once you have the certificate (and I'm counting the days) you're either female or you aren't.  You can't be female till you come to the toilet door.  This is the way it is.  This is the way it has to be.


If you still believe that only people BORN female should use the ladies loo what are you actually asking for?   Genital testing?  Chromosome tests?  Gender passports?   What should my punishment be for using the 'wrong' toilet?  Arrest?  Prison?


I suppose we could have a scenario as depicted in the cartoon I've posted above...?   Personally I wouldn't like it.  Being a woman, I'd rather just use the ladies loo, thanks.