# reflections on being a trans woman

pre-transition, i used to get told that transitioning is hard, and that some people detransition because of societal pressure. nobody - and i mean NOBODY - ever hinted that i might, as a trans woman, fall out of love with being trans because of the spaceless void that i would fall into being transgender and being a woman.

there is a very simple choice that i'm facing in all facets of my existence currently, from chatting to a friend, to booking a doctor's appointment: conform to EVERY boundary set by another person(s), or confront people as a non-conforming woman. quite literally, i either conform to expectations or i'm forced to confront people about their expectations of how i should be. 'confront' because i'm constantly infantilized & disregarded because of my womanhood, so not blending into a background requires aggression & inconvenience to others. this blanket rule MUST apply to everyone, because as a trans woman i simply cannot let my guard down with anyone because it's never safe to.

there is a rage that exists inside me which has been present since my pre-transition days, and i have never so acutely felt it so complete & intense. it's what i feel when i spend the day with a friend who knows me so well but can't tell that i'm not interested in these dull conversations because i'm pretending to be a certain woman who isn't bringing up u chatting behind my back just to keep the peace. it's what i feel when i play a boymoder to again keep the peace so that my mother can deny complicity in years of physical & emotional domestic & religious abuse, just to be told by trans strangers on the internet that being a boymoder is antithetical to lesbianism & that it's my transfeminist duty to stand as i am, even if that jeopardizes the contextualizing of my identity through learning my family history; just to scroll to then be told that as a white gal i should also decolonize in part by learning my ancestry.

my experience of womanhood is constant contradictions and boiling anger. the few euphoric gems of experience i own i clutch close to my newly-formed chest because they have been subjected to erosion when i've shared them with people i trust in the past, who don't even recognize & won't accept how their words are landing. either they can't relate to the importance of what i'm sharing or they think less of it, or some secret third option. i'm subject to constant scrutiny. my emotional needs are either unsafe to share, or expected to be convenient to others. my physical needs are only valued in the context of other people's wants & desires. my bodily functions are denied because they make me less attractive. as a woman, i am defined by my attractiveness physically and emotionally, and this is amplified in queer circles. i'm expected to exist as a constant, flawless feminine role model that doesn't fart, burp, swear, pee, poo, bleed.

yes, queer spaces are worse for queerphobia than predominately cishet spaces. i'll get clocked & yelled at, even chased w the threat of physical assault, if i'm a butch tgirl in public around my way (because i have been. constantly.), but in queer circles my identity will be gatekept. i'll be permitted access to spaces on the conditions that my proximity to maleness can be utilized, or that i'm sexually available. my transness is valued more than myself. i'll be expected to reinforce espoused liberal rhetoric to maintain a place within the group, at the cost of the inclusion of other minorities. i can walk away from catcallers. i can defend myself against an assaulter. there is no way that i can interact with a queer space that sacrifices minorities on altars of colonialism, (trans)misogyny and whiteness.

one thing that's fascinated me since noticing it, is that in my experience, gender is secondary to disability. since accepting that i'm physically disabled, people care less about how i look or what i sound like. the cane occupies focus. i have thoughts about this that haven't come to fruition, but this is nonetheless worth mentioning.

am i detransitioning? in ways, yes. i wear stubble sometimes because i'm told by trans people that i shouldn't & can't. i voice train deeper, darker voices (as well as higher, brighter ones) because i'm told by trans people that i shouldn't & can't speak that way. am i fundamentally a woman regardless? yes. that's literally not up for debate, and you're failing to be trans, or a trans ally, if you think otherwise.

there's no conclusion to this post. there's no happy ending or suggestions of what to do next. i've got my own thoughts, but i'm as stumped as you are. if i'm right in thinking that i'm not the only tgirl that feels this way, then YOU figure out how to support other trans women. i'm not responsible for anyone else's actions, & finally: i'm not your emotional janitor. if my life has troubled you then take it up w ur conscience, not me.