By the way, yes, I'm resorting to begging, so if you like this blog please consider leaving something in my ChipIn. It's in the sidebar to the left, or you can just click here.
But anyway, on to the actual interesting part of this post. The thing is, for the past couple months I have been living more fully as male than I ever have been. It was actually a pain in the ass to leave camp because most of my family still "she"s me all the time (even though they know), which they don't regularly do at camp, but I will tell you this: At work over the summer, at work now, and at school, I am a man. I mean, I'm a man otherwise, but other peoples' perceptions of me do give me a great deal more confidence in myself and leads to some interesting... learning experiences. Which, of course, I'll detail here.
- Women flirt with me. Wait, women flirt with me?
No, seriously, this was a big shock to me, because I still have it in my head that people are perceiving me as female, so when they act toward me in a manner similar to the way they interact with women, I assume they're just viewing me as women.
As it turns out, in a substantial percentage of women, treating men in a way similar to how they treat their girlfriends is a method of flirting.
In other words, I spent half the summer leading women on because I assumed their actions meant they secretly saw me as a woman, when in reality they saw me as a suitor. Boing. - Men talk to each other in men's restrooms more than I am comfortable with.I have to admit, I hate talking to people in restrooms unless it's a personal care thing (considering I work with people with developmental disabilities). So, seriously, unless you need my assistance in your hygienic efforts, I don't want to strike up a conversation.
You know what's worse is that my ability to piss standing up is, I've found, directly related to whether or not you are talking to me. I've grown very comfortable with my Freshette, bulky though it may be compared to other STPs, but being talked to by the guy in the next stall is probably the best way for me to involuntarily clench my urethra beyond its ability to eliminate.
I wouldn't know this if it didn't happen almost every God-damned day, so the idea that men never talk to each other in public restrooms is either a myth or a regional thing. Here in good old Wisconsin they seem to do it all the time.
There is a difference, though. Men don't go to a restroom just to talk. Conversation is heavily limited either to very topical things or maybe a greeting if you see someone you haven't seen in a while.
Oh, and I know every trans man and their brother talks about this, but plenty of cis guys sit to piss. No, seriously. They do. - Male physicals are different than female physicals."No shit, Sherlock!" Well, yeah, of course they're different, but they're different in different ways than the obvious. Not just the "turn your head and cough" stuff, but seriously, I just had my second physical in which the attending medical professional sort of "forgot" I'm not cis (and I'm up front about that with medical professionals) and looked at me like a zombie when that was brought up. Today it was when I said I suspected the pain in my abdomen was my period coming. But that's not a difference, it's just an aside.
No, you know what's different that a lot of people probably wouldn't notice? It's like every time the attending med pro wants to put a stethoscope to my chest, and forgets I'm not cis, they want me to lift my shirt up all the freaking way. When I was acting female they'd pussy-foot around it, say awkward things like "I'm going to work my way around your bra, is that OK?" and act as though they were trying to step on eggs without breaking them. When I explained to one, keeping in mind this was a public physical and there was a queue of other guys behind me with no barrier between us, "I have boobs," he assumed I meant "moobs" of the classic variety and just said "Oh, that's OK" and insisted I lift it anyway. I did, and later was privately apologized to. - Passing is mostly based on the fact that most people will believe you anyway if you and your friends are nonchalant about it.Clients at work as well as pretty much everyone at school have pretty much accepted me as male, even if they read me as female at first, because everyone is very casual about the fact that I am.
It's interesting, because saying I pass well to my friends usually elicits a lot of blank stares from people who don't believe me. Which is a wonderful vote of confidence, guys. The fact is, though, that people are usually unwilling to question other peoples' genders openly unless they're total fuckwads. Why? Because to most of the world, that's incredibly rude.
Which brings me to my final list item... - Even people who know tend to get really, really mad when I'm implied to be female.This happened a lot at camp. Campers, especially those with developmental disabilities that make them susceptible to certain social faux pas, would occasionally make comments that I looked like a woman or sounded like one or continually misgender me.
"You keep talking about a 'she.' There is no 'she' there! Who do you think you're talking to?!"
"Well, I'm just saying he sounds like a woman, that's not rude, it's just the truth..." "TROY! REALLY! I'M NOT TELLING YOU AGAIN!"
See, from my perspective, accidental misgendering isn't a huge deal. I even do it sometimes... even to cis people. Seriously. It's true. And you know what? I do look and sound like a woman to a large portion of the population. So, well, whatever.
