I’ve started to get “misgendered” at the airport again. I put “misgendered” in quotes, because I’m not entirely sure how I want to be gendered (by strangers) anymore. The TSA agent called me “ma’am” before I removed my mask for facial ID, and “sir” afterward. I received an uncomfortable pat-down when my crotch was flagged by the scanner machine (again). I felt hyper-aware of how people looked at me when I entered the men’s bathroom, realizing I also had no place to dispose of a tampon while I was there.
None of this is new for trans folks navigating airports or other heavily gendered spaces. And with Trump-era policies making it difficult (or impossible) to have ID documents that match the gender we present as, moving through these spaces can be stressful at best, and opportunities for harassment or violence at worst. Trans folks are often under increased scrutiny already, and now people in authority may feel emboldened to act on personal bias.
Know your rights at the airport: https://transequality.org/resources/know-your-rights-airport-security
At the same time, 10 years since starting testosterone, I’ve frequently had the privilege of “flying under the radar.”
It’s been a long time since I have been gendered as anything other than male. Early last year, I was deeply frustrated when my massage therapist used they/them pronouns for me, despite my medical records saying male, and looking very stereotypically masculine (big, bearded, deep-voiced). I didn’t want to have to defend my identity–I wanted my appearance to speak for itself. I wanted her to assume, and get it right!
I’m not sure if she was being overly cautious because she knew I was trans, resulting in a kind of “de-gendering” many trans folks experience, or if she was sensing something I wasn’t aware of yet. Because a few months later, I was confronting doubts about the way I presented my gender that I had been pushing down for years. In a short period of time, I decided to shave my beard, go off of testosterone, and start laser hair removal.
I want to make a note here that there are many reasons people may change the way they present their gender, or stop hormones, or detransition. I would still describe myself as trans, and don’t think of this process as “detransitioning” for myself. Some people feel regret about the steps they’ve taken in transition (this isn’t the case for me). Others are shifting to a more gender-conforming presentation to feel safer in the current political climate. There is nothing wrong with continuing to explore and taking steps to feel safer or more comfortable in your own skin.
In my case, I was approaching this as a kind of experiment. After being on T for ten years, it was hard to imagine what being off of it would be like. It was hard to predict that my attraction to men would completely vanish, and that I would feel more in tune with myself and with butch identity than I had in my life before. I had expected the mood swings and the emotional crashes that came with them, but not the deeper sense of connection to myself. I had expected to feel different, but not necessarily to look different, or have people look at me differently.
This has been both affirming and scary.
I grew up being a very masculine and gender-ambiguous kid. Being misgendered, or confusing people, was my norm. Walking into a bathroom was always a stressful experience.
For many years, I’ve taken for granted the ease of walking through the world as a gender-conforming person, while being easily read as a (cis) man. Now I feel much more connected to that gender-ambiguous butch childhood, and also more self-conscious, more visible as a trans person.
It’s not exactly the easiest or safest time to decide to explore gender presentation. And despite feeling more connected to myself than ever, I still sometimes doubt I’m doing the right thing. Why would I “choose” to put myself at risk of greater scrutiny if I don’t have to? Isn’t this the same question so many trans folks have before taking that first step outside of living as the gender others assume them to be?
After eight months off T, I’m still unsure how I want people to perceive me. I feel most comfortable with he/him pronouns and masculine gendered terms, but no longer view myself as a man. I’ve been going on dates with women who identify as lesbians, and finding it so affirming to be seen as a butch, while still having these preferences honored. I’ve found friends who are able to hold the contradictions, even when I’m not sure how to myself. I’ve found ways to play with gender–through my hair and clothes, through relationships, through kink–that are new and exciting and freeing.
And I am getting weird looks and uncomfortable pat-downs at the airport. I feel newly re-acquainted with that eight-year-old kid who was getting yelled at for needing to use the bathroom in public before I could fully understand why. I am very aware of the passing privilege I’ve had for most of my transition, and fear losing it. I’m also aware that so many trans folks have never had this privilege.
Not all of us have the freedom to explore–AND it feels so important and so liberating to do, when the easiest and safest option is often to stay silent, invisible, and easily digestible in a world that increasingly targets non-conformity and self-definition. I am holding both that sense of freedom, and my fear for the future. I feel gratitude for the people around me who allow me to be seen, when being seen is often dangerous – gratitude for having space for all of it.