Oh, hi!
In my last article we discussed how different people can have different interpretations and definitions of terms that are associated with gender identity.
How one identifies can change over time, and for some the importance of having a term for who we are can also change. When I was young and acknowledged that this aspect of who I am existed I wondered if there was a word for Boys Who Wore Girl Clothes. And there was, with that word being 'crossdresser'. Over the years the word started to feel not quite right for a variety of reasons which lead me back to wondering if there was a different term that would fit better. I started to identify as transgender and modified my identity (terminology-wise) to bi-gender. These days I am less concerned about terminology as we all can have a different take on what terms like transgender, crossdresser, and the like mean to all of us.
I want to chat about WHY having a name for who we are is important to us, especially in the early steps of our journey. I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that labels (and I still hate that word when it comes to someone's gender identity) don't matter for many of us. "I am who I am" is the perspective many of us have and they have little interest in fitting into specifics. And I get it. I think those who have little patience for assigning a word for who they are understand that there are nuances and exceptions and contradictions for a lot of gender adjacent terms.
However I think the majority of us felt confusion, loneliness, and isolation about ourselves once we realized that we are more than the gender we were assigned at birth. I know I did. At a very early age we are taught about gender roles even if it's not that specific verbiage. These lessons are small but groundbreaking. The first time I was taught about what boys are allowed and not allowed to do was when I was five years old. "Boys don't wear lipstick", my mom said, as she applied her own.
From that point on I paid attention to what boys and girls are supposed to do, wear, and want. It didn't take long for me to realize that I didn't fit in as a boy. That's not to say I wanted to be a girl, but I couldn't wrap my head around why so many "rules" were so strict and arguably arbitrary. If I wasn't a boy, then who was I?
To be clear I never thought there was something flawed about who I was. I wasn't ashamed about what I wanted to wear (and what I wore in secret) but I knew I had to keep this aspect of who I was to myself. This is where the isolation, although self-imposed, started. Learning of the word 'crossdresser' brought a world of comfort. THAT'S who I was. It was reassuring to know that there were so many "boys who wore girl clothes" (as the word as defined to me) that there was a word for others like myself.
It was reassuring to know that there were so many "boys who wore girl clothes" (as the word as defined to me) that there was a word for others like myself.
I think this is when I realized that labels were comforting, although I wasn't even a teenager yet.
Over time different labels fit better than others, especially as my gender identity evolved. As I evolved from only panties and lingerie to "real clothes" and then to adopting a femme name and wearing makeup and a wig, so did how I identified. This is normal for many of us, but as I said in my previous article, not all of us have the same perspective on these familiar words (whether the word is crossdresser, transgender, or another). Since these words mean different things to different people, how we identify to others becomes arguably less important and less helpful. It can be surprising when two people are at a very similar spot in their journey and in their life but identify in completely different ways.
When this happens we may ask ourselves if we are, in fact, identifying our gender correctly. For years, even after I started to present completely en femme I identified as a crossdresser, even though the word didn't feel quite right. When I met my friend Mari, who was similar to myself in terms of having two gender identities (like me, she lived part of her life presenting as masculine) and had no plans to transition, I realized that the word 'transgender' didn't necessarily have the restrictions (if you will) that I had assumed they did. She explained that being transgender didn't mean I had to transition and that she viewed the word as an umbrella term and other labels, such as crossdresser, non-binary, gender queer (among others) were all part of the transgender community. Her perspective was that we are ALL transgender, and are free to adopt a second (or multiple) identifier if we wanted.
This opened my mind quite a lot and it didn't take long for me to identify as transgender. It was around this time I stopped asking how others identify. I mean, for one it can come off as a little intrusive but also because I realized that one person's transgender identity is another person's crossdresser identity. When I do identify as transgender to others, sometimes I am asked if I am going to transition. After all, some people think that transgender DOES imply you are/have transitioned. Again, we all have a different perspective on these terms.
Why do we ask each other how they identify? Why does it matter? One reason we may ask another is to see if we are, well, correct in how a term is defined. It's not unusual for someone to feel a little, well, unsure about the word for who they are. We MIGHT identify as a crossdresser (perhaps because it's the only word we know at the time) even if we're not completely confident that the term is quite right (based on how others define the word). But asking someone else about how they identify may either reinforce that yes, *that* word is apt or may add more doubt.
When we start our journey we may wonder what comes next. It's natural. We can see the progress and evolution happen in real time. One pair of panties becomes five, one pair of heels becomes a dozen, a closet starts to fill with dresses... We see the change happening. We know that we are further along from where we were. We know we are likely going somewhere and that this aspect of ourselves will continue to grow. Because of this we are probably asking ourselves what is next. What do we do now? Knowing the possibilities can be frightening or reassuring, for ourselves and for the people in our lives.
Again, we see ourselves grow progressively as it's normal to assume that this progression will continue to an end point. I mean, it WILL but it's not always clear what our final destination is. For many of us we might think that our journey will end (although our journey never truly ends) with transitioning. And of course this is true for many of us but not all of us. Some of us know whether or not that's the right decision for us, some of us aren't sure.
For those who aren't sure, knowing how someone else identifies can be a guiding light. What I mean is that if you identify as transgender you may wonder if your gender identity means that transitioning is either expected or if it's inevitable, even if you aren't sure if it's the right choice. I felt a little unsure about identifying as transgender (as I assumed it meant that I would be transitioning) until I met others (like my friend Mari) that broadened my perspective on what the T Word can mean to someone.
When I met my friend Mari, who was similar to myself in terms of having two gender identities (like me, she lived part of her life presenting as masculine) and had no plans to transition, I realized that the word 'transgender' didn't necessarily have the restrictions (if you will) that I had assumed they did.
Another reason I was hesitant to identify as transgender was I didn't want to didn't want to offend anyone. What I mean is that I had one transgender woman who had transitioned tell me that I didn't "earn" that identity since I didn't transition. I didn't argue with her (it was easier to delete the email) mainly because I know that we all have different perspectives on what all these words can mean to different people. We are different shades of pink.
The final reason I want to discuss is repression. Just as we may wonder what we should be doing when it comes to our journey we may also wonder if there's anything that we are, well, ignoring. When I started to present en femme I knew my gender took a giant strut forward from when all of THIS was just about panties. I lived part of my day and part of my life as a girl. SHE had her own life, her own friends, her own email address. It felt like I was taking baby steps into living en femme full time.
But living full time (and henceforth transitioning) never felt like the obvious and inevitable decision, no matter how Hannah's life was growing. Although transitioning never felt right, even then, was I in denial? Was I repressing something? Was fear holding me back?
Short answer was no. How did I come to this revelation? Like many moments of enlightenment, it came from therapy. Just as we ask others in our community about their perspective on gender and identity, we can also ask a therapist for their perspective on aspects of our own lives. I mean, that's WHY we see a therapist, right? My therapist at the time was amazing at taking the smallest feeling, the smallest thought, and gently coaxing it out of me and helped me explore it. Gender identity was one of those things.
I am now fifty years old. I have spent my entire life (and will continue to do so) living beyond the borders of how much of the world views gender. I have been told I am everything from a boy to confused to repressed to a pervert to many other words... some accurate, some offensive, some just plain wrong. Some of these words I have even called myself. I will continue to have new adventures and mark new milestones in the tallest stilettos I can find, but the journey of identity is probably over for me. I feel I have arrived at who I am and who I am meant to be.
Love, Hannah
