Oh Ten

So here it is, 2010. My resolution is to make a start on my transition, and in some small ways I already have. I got my binder in the post yesterday, ofcourse I tried it on straight away and it was a very good fit. I think I could have gotten away with the next size down, but still it's really very good.

As it was hogmany (new years eve) yesterday, I had planned to go out into the city and celebrate with friends, so I decided to try it out. I met up with some friends who also had some of their friends meet up with us, their friends were lesbians so we ended up going to a gay club. It would seem that the binder done the trick as I was just taken as a guy.

This really was a first for me, I haven't ever before purposefully intended to pass as male. It was really a new experience and to be honest, I enjoyed it, it was nice to be recognised as a guy for a change. The only thing I would say that I regret is not having an STP packer, I really did feel that something was missing (that and I was bursting for the toilet all night and didn't much like the look of the toilets in the cubicles!), I did get a bit close to (physically) to someone that night and it was a constant concern, what if she reaches for something thats not there?

Seeing my rather drunk friends interacting with strangers in the street, it made me realise how women perceive men. My friend Charlie had mentioned in a video about a discussion he had with a cisgendered female and how she was more aware of her surroundings and had an innate fear of strange men when out in public. I really saw this last night, women were somewhat more reluctant to interact with a strange male, some even turning away altogether. It's not something I've really experienced before, from such a personal viewpoint. Not that I am really the type to approach strangers in the street, but Glasgow is known as the friendly city and people usually respond well to being approached. But still, it made me realise, I'm no longer part of that group, I'm slowly but steadily loosing my connection, my ties if you will, with the female community, and with that I'm having to (to a degree) relearn behaviours. I'm seeing now how I would be percieved as a male and recognising now that behaviours towards women that cisgendered guys learn in their teens, I have to adopt myself.

In other news, my mother made me go shopping with her. As I mentioned before, she's bought me a trouser suit for my brother's wedding. She had also bought some awful blouse to go with it, which I point blank refused to even entertain the idea of wearing. So, we needed to get a replacement, I also needed to get a pair of shoes for the occasion. I'm pretty sure I've touched a little on the perils and pitfalls of trying to buy ladies shoes that will actually fit me, so this time we opted for a pair of men's shoes.

Now, this is a pretty significant milestone. My mother, who in the past gave me a bollocking for looking at men's shoes, was actually in the men's department of a clothes shop with me, looking at men's shoes and suggesting different pairs for me to try. Admitedly, I did steer us in that direction but only after she had exhausted the options in the ladies department, but none the less, she was there with me, quite happily looking at the clothes. I got a shirt for wearing with the suit, a men's shirt, which she did not complain about, I got the shoes, and I tried on a pair of trousers too. However, on entering the changing rooms, I was directed to the men's changing rooms. I didn't realise this at first, and my mother did try to call me back, but I indicated to her quietly not to make a scene as it would just be embaressing all round if I were to try and go into the ladies room and have to explain to the shop assistant. So she was initially somewhat ashen faced, but perked up when she saw me in the clothes (I think that kinda took her mind off it).

But I feel like this is a big step forward, I was explaining to her also about why I prefer to wear men's trousers, that the cut is better, more flattering. She countered by saying that women's clothes are cut for a female body shape, but the proof of the pudding is in the eating as they say. I look terrible in ladies trousers, I don't in men's. So I think I can count that as a victory of sorts, there was no unspoken awkwardness, no sense of shame in looking at male clothing.

That last line, kinda brings me into the something else that I've been thinking about recenetly. I've realised that I have a feeling of shame with regards my masculinity, and I think its been mostly fuelled by my mother. I see cisgendered guys with beards and body hair and masculine clothing and theres no shame there, yet I can't help but feel that although I long to look like that, in reality, there would be a sense of shame and embaressment about it around my family. I find myself being quite jelous of these guys. To hear my brother talking about being protective of his girlfriend, and my parents (my father especially) agreeing with him, I think, what if I was to talk like that? What if it was me sitting at the table with you all, talking about being protective of my girlfriend? Would you be so quick to agree? Would the topic even be open to discussion? Would it make you feel uncomfortable? I would myself feel uncomfortable discussing it with my family becuase of that sense of shame that's been put in place.

After years of bullying, I developed a rock hard outer shell, 'I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about me and they can fuck off if the don't like it'. I really don't want to use time and energy worrying about these things, it really matters nothing to me. I'm not going to change myself to make other people (this is excluding my family) happy, if someone has a problem with me, I really don't care. On a very few occasions, I have had altercations with people, some physical, but I am now at a point where I feel like I can handle anything. I've been experienced verbal, emotional, mental and physical violence, and I'm still standing. I now do not fear these things. This frame of mind has, I have found, eliminated alot of stress for me. I just don't worry about these things.

Unless it's with my parents, it's strange to me that they're the only people who have this effect on me. I don't fear violence from them, more the shame and awkwardness. I find that very difficult to deal with, I think I also fear to some degree, abandonment. They're who I turn to when I need help, not with matters that would be talked about, but physical needs.

Maybe that's whats scaring me so much? We don't talk about thoughts and feelings, I don't feel comfortable discussing those kind of things with them, I feel awkward and shameful. We never ever discuss sex, ever. And this, my transition, I guess to some degree, falls into that category, sexual organs, sexuality, masculinity, gender roles, things that are never discussed.

And then the ubiquitous sense of shame...

Introduction

I don't know how much I'll use this journal, I don't know if I will ever be able to begin to transition. I made this account as a record of trans related stuff. The kind of thing I wouldn't really put in my regular journal. I may make this public, I may not, I don't know yet. But incase I do make it public, here's a little background on me.

I'm 27 years old, I was born in Glasgow, Scotland and have lived in Scotland all my life. I call myself FTM, but to be fair, I am transgendered, I have not started hormones and I have not had surgery, although I would like to one day. I am about 5'10", and I have been quite lucky in that I don't have a typically female build, my voice is also quite low and I often pass without effort. I have lived with both my parents until the age of 25, they never split or divorced. I have one younger brother, who also lived with us. My parents are religious, my dad is a baptist minister, and they are both quite traditional in their values, and generally quite stoic when it comes to feelings and emotions. Sex was almost never mentioned in the family, I had the 'birds and bees' talk when I was very young, I guess they wanted to get it out the way early on.

Around the age of 13, I kinda figured out that I was gay. I liked girls, and someone had told us that there was such a thing as being gay, so I put 2 and 2 together, and got 3 and a half. It seemed right, but not quite. Shortly after I figured this out, I was forced to come out to my mother by my father. That was pretty traumatic, I remember standing in the corner of the hall, crying, and him shouting at me, demanding to know why I didn't dress more like a girl.

Now, at this time, I was being bullied quite badly. The bullying went on for pretty much the whole 6 years we lived at that address, both at school at my house. I remember one occasion, early on, when I had had an altercation with the 'lead bully' (who lived 2 doors away), my dad shouting at me, and asking me 'what had I done to cause him to act like that with me? because I have a habit of rubbing people up the wrong way'. This is typical of the attitude my dad has towards me.

So, after a while, I can't remember how long, my mother interviened and spoke to me in my room. I somehow managed to get out the confession to her that I thought I was gay. This ofcourse broke her heart, she started crying, and I asked her not to tell my dad. She agreed and said she would tell him that I had agreed to make more of an effort to be more feminine.

The type of bullying I received was based largely on my physical appearence. I was not feminine, I worse trousers instead of a skirt, I was awkward and perceived as being gay. The school didn't do alot to help. I believe my dad wrote some letters to the head teacher, I think they offered to move me from my class, but that would have meant leaving the few friends I did have. Altogether, it was a really shitty time for me. We moved to that address around age 10, and left around age 16. So I spent my puberty going through the hell of being bullied.

Around the age of 18, my dad caught me on gay.com, he again had me cornered and forced me to tell him why I was on that site. He actually gave me a hug this time, and told me that they would still love me. This is a pretty rare moment of affection from him. I remember a couple of years after, again being trapped by him (now when I say trapped, I don't mean being held physcially, I mean being told not to move and being verbally attacked) and being told that he 'didn't care what I thought I was, I was not going to be allowed to hurt my mother any more by dressing as I did'.

I have never gotten along with my father, he is very stubborn, very stoic, very much the authority figure. He is a control freak, and doesn't trust me at all. As a child, we would be 'smacked', this continued into my teenage years, although it wasn't like a slap on the back of the legs, it would be a full throttle rage, being slapped around the head and body. I remember a number of occasions, my mum and brother interviening. The problem is, I am also very stubborn, and I refuse absolutely to give in to him. My mum describes us as 'two bulls going head to head'.

That's a fairly breif version of an introduction, and a start at explaining some of my family influence and experience and an insight into why I may never transition.