Visibility: Part One

The Invisible Woman

Every time I think I have a handle on this one, some new bullshit opens up and compels a new segment or tangent, and apparently, because of how my brain works, this one needs to be finished before I can post anything else here. So, I've decided to sidestep the problem.

As such, I guess this is going to be a multi-part post, spread out across however many parts, and however long, it takes for me to engage with this tricky and wide ranging concept.

So, I was originally going to write up a post about this for Trans Day of Visibility, which was well, 2 months ago. But then, a few days before that day, something happened.
Something fairly innocuous to most people, but to a girl in my position, it posed a more significant potential danger. I fucked up, and after a lunch break at work, I left my twitter account open and on screen. A few people would probably have seen it, can't be sure. Nothing on the screen was immediately a problem, but it did include my screen name, which, if an inquisitive type were to use to view my twitter, would immediately out me as trans. This was not conducive to my transition timeline, or my general anxieties.

So, I locked my tweets and hid my blogs and hoped for the best.

I spent Trans Day Of Visibility hiding because it was safer to do so, and I hated it.

This is a choice trans people face every day, in one form or another. There are people in this world who do not want to see us. People in this world that, in times of vulnerability (times we find ourselves put in with cruel frequency) we may not want to see us. We are targets.

In this world today, being visibly trans is a revolutionary act.

Now, I place (and accept) no blame, shame, or disrespect for those of us like me, who were, are, or will be, unable or unwilling to risk the consequences of that revolution. We are a part of it, and we are doing what we can while remaining safe and comfortable as we need to be. Personally, though, I hate it.

I hate the times when I can tell I'm making the choice out of fear I shouldn't have to face. I go to work, with my small, hidden acts of defiance. I wear panties, I paint my toenails (but not my fingernails, though I long to, and one day, I will finally get to)
I wear bright socks. For the time between the announcement of the awful marriage equality vote, till it's final successful completion, I wore only rainbow coloured socks. My own private petulance (I can't really consider it protest if I showed no one, provided to others none of the solace that I took in seeing the rainbows hanging out windows and on umbrellas)

But that’s pretty much where my visibility ends, with the occasional flash of a sock in the trans pride colours, or the glimpse on the washing line of panties or a sports bra (which I do not wear under my work shirt for fear of a visible crease on my back when stretching the wrong way.)

Lately, I have taken to wearing cat ear headbands. (I'm just, embracing every trans girl stereotype I can find over here.) My hair is getting longer, and they keep them out of my eyes nicely. they also look super cute, which in turn helps me feel cute, a rather precious resource in itself. I now have several pairs and I like them a lot. I am more comfortable when I'm wearing them, I am more confident when I'm wearing them. Except, for the times when that confidence flees.

Earlier this week, I had to move a car in from the street. It was the middle of the day, in the suburbs, no one was around. But, our neighbour might see, and that wasn't a conversation I was ready to have with them. I debated with myself (for several seconds longer than I did in the past) if I should take them off, if the crushing act of once again, hiding a small part of who I am in order for small convenience was worth it. In the end, I took them off, and was kinda disappointed in myself for it.

It is hard to convey, I think, especially to people who have never had to do it themselves, what a toll it takes to have to do the safety/comfort/stability vs truth/openness/visibility maths for events as innocuous as deciding if you need to change your clothes to go check the mailbox, change your voice to answer the phone, sign an official form with knowingly false but legally accurate information. How crushing it can be to a persons mood no matter what decision or outcome is reached. The mere fact that, this is an everyday part of my life now, at times becomes a weight upon me. Not unbearable, but contributory. If I'm having a bad day, having to mentally correct someone who unknowingly misgenders you, but stifle any urge to do so vocally, can be a weight to make it worse. On good days, it's less a problem, but hiding who we are hurts us in subtle ways.

but

The other day, I was driving somewhere for work. It was late enough to be dark. I was literally a hundred miles away from home (well, technically 178k's which makes it about 110 miles, but the language is more poetic that way. it's the reason I don't mind that we have a bunch of like, "eight mile creek" and such)
So, driving along, wearing my cat ears, and I pulled into Mcdonalds drive through, and I didn't take them off. I sat in the car park, waiting (for ten minutes!) for my burger, and I didn't take them off.

So, I'm making progress.

End Part 1

<3
~LRP

Todays Vaguely Transition-Themed Song: Superchick - One Girl Revolution
(I can lose my hard earned freedom if my fear defines my world.)