Hannah McKnight: Coming Out, Part

 

This is a continuation of Coming Out. Click here to read part 1.

 

In my previous article, I discussed a very important rite of passage that most of us will go through: The Talk with our significant other. I am not going to touch on that conversation here, but you may want to take a peek at it if you haven’t read it.

Depending on how *that* talk went, it may either encourage or discourage you from coming out to other people in your life. The first person I ever came out to was a girlfriend that I had been dating for a few months. We had recently moved in with each other and looking back we had nothing but the rose colored optimism and naivety of young love. The certainty that the person you are with at twenty-two years old is the person you will be with for the rest of your life.

At this point in my life I had accepted that *this* side of me wasn’t going away. Not a phase, not something I would grow out of. It was not unlike a song I loved all throughout my life and I knew I’d be singing it until the end of my days.

Before we signed the lease to the apartment, I had enjoyed living alone and the freedom that this brought. I could have a wardrobe full of panties (and I did), I could fall asleep in a nightgown (and I did). I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t want to suppress that. I had done that enough over the last two decades.

So, I needed to tell her. She had to know who I was. She deserved to know everything about. She needed this information so she could make the determination if my crossdressing (which is what I understood this was then) was a dealbreaker.

I told her and my goodness it did not go well. I assumed The Talk was going to go in one of three directions:

1. She would be completely accepting and we’d hop into my Honda Accord and speed to the mall where we would spend too much money at Victoria’s Secret
2. She would break up with me without hesitation
3. It went the way it went

What happened was her pressing me to promise to never do it again and to never discuss it again. Ever. Ever ever. We weren’t going to break up, but in a way, it was worse. I felt stupid. I felt ashamed. I felt like there was something wrong with me. I had promised myself that I would never come out to anyone ever again. Ever. Ever ever.

Fast forward a few years. This side of me evolved, for lack of a better word. I came to understand that this wasn’t just a side of who I am, it was more than that. This was about gender identity, not about clothes. I hesitantly and slowly began to identify as transgender. I learned how to come out, if you will. I knew myself better, I understood the nuances of gender identity, I learned how to discuss something in relatable and simple terms.

Again, coming out can often feel like the opposite of what we want to do, what we are used to doing but at some point in our lives, we likely will feel the need to do so. We have this feeling for a number of reasons. For some of us, we feel we are being dishonest with people we love.

Over time I came out to my mom, my sisters, and my brother. The important people in my life. Well, almost all the important people in my life.

I tend to be a very… hm, purpose driven person. What I mean is that when I have a conversation with most people, I am doing so for a reason, especially at work. Perhaps I need to clarify something or bring attention to a problem or help someone understand a situation. Years ago I was advised that before you speak, ask yourself:

Does this need to be said? If yes, ask yourself does this need to be said right now? And again, if yes, ask yourself if you need to be the one to say it.

I like that. It makes me pause and think about what I am going to say (if I am going to say anything) and gives me a moment to choose my words and phrasing and tone. I’m autistic and one of my traits is that I struggle with inflection and tone. It’s not always easy for others to tell if I am being serious or sarcastic or bitchy or just communicating the facts. Taking a moment (or taking a week, in some cases) gives me an opportunity to not only choose my words but to also consider how I speak.

I am already getting waaaaay off track, lol. This happened a lot earlier than usual.

Where was I? Oh, right, identity. I think there are a lot of terms and label that are appropriate for me to identify as, and I feel this way based on my own personal definition and interpretation of these terms and labels. I acknowledge that my perspective is likely different than others, and I would never tell someone else what their own gender identity is. Gender identity is, in my opinion, personal and sacred, and the boundaries of a specific identity, be it crossdresser or transgender are always going to be determined by the individual.

I think it’s safe to say that I have three gender identities.

Good Lord. Three?

Let’s unpack that. One identity is bi-gender. I divide my life into two distinct parts. HIS life, and HER life. I have not, and I will not, transition. It’s not the right path in my journey. I have two different closets, two different email addresses, two different circles of friends, two different sets of pronouns… There is very little overlap between these two worlds. Very few people in my masculine presenting life are aware of Hannah, and although everyone who knows Hannah knows she wasn’t assigned female at birth, very few of Hannah’s friends know much about HIS life.

It’s very much like having a secret identity.

So, bi-gender is a good fit for me, for both aspects of my life. I have two different and distinct gender presentations and gender identities.

When it comes to Hannah, her gender identity is transgender. She wasn’t assigned female at birth and regardless of any plans to transition or not, she is trans. I don’t feel that one needs to transition, be it medically, legally, or socially, to identify as transgender. And although I don’t feel that anyone is allowed to impose standards or requirements when it comes to how one is allowed to identify, Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary has my back on this.

As of this writing, their definition of “transgender” is as follows:

of, relating to, or being a person whose gender identity differs from the sex the person was identified as having at birth
especially : of, relating to, or being a person whose gender identity is opposite the sex the person was identified as having at birth

The definition does not specify transitioning as a requirement for identifying as transgender. Of course, you should identify in a way that you are comfortable with. I understand, and at one point, I could relate to being intimidated by identifying as such but I really like this definition. I feel it’s very inclusive.

I also feel that transgender is an adjective I am a transgender woman. I am a tall woman. I am a fashionable (or at least I try) woman.

When it comes to HIS life, I use masculine pronouns when I present as masculine. But that presentation is really only what the vast majority of the world sees. To a work colleague, I’m the tall guy who wears a boring button up short and black slacks or whatever. They don’t know I am wearing pink lacey panties or that I woke up in a nightgown or that I am changing into leggings the second I get home.

As much as I love all things feminine and how so many clothes I associate with femininity, I don’t think that clothes as a whole should be genderized. Spellcheck doesn’t think genderized is a word but I think you know what I mean. In his life he wears what he wants. Femme jeans, femme t-shirts, leggings, nightgowns… I wear these items when presenting as masculine.

His gender identity is non-binary. I wear what I want (for the most part). I don’t think feelings, perspectives, careers, clothes, whatever, is for a specific or restricted for anyone based on their gender identity.

And yes, there’s a lot to process here. Which is precisely why I am not out to most of the people in HIS life. Again, my siblings and my mom and maybe four people from my past know about my seemingly complicated relationship with gender identity. I say “seemingly complicated” because I think how I identify can come off as random or arbitrary. I don’t feel that most cisgender people question their gender. If they’re a dude they likely always feel, and have always felt like a dude. They probably have never hesitated when they checked the “male” box on the gender question that is on most medical forms. They probably have never felt jealous when they saw a beautiful girl wearing a cute dress.

I think others in my life would have a hard time with coming to terms with someone like myself who on some days I wake up and cinch myself into a corset and zip up my miniskirt and go to makeover and spend the day en femme but the next day I wake up and put on khakis and go into the office.

But perhaps I am not giving people in my life enough credit.

As I mentioned before, I am out to almost all of the important people in my life. There are still two friends that I grew up with. They are kind, openminded people.

Regardless, I am hesitant to come out to these two friends, and others in my life, because of the stigma that too many people in the world are reinforcing when it comes to non-cisgender people. Too many loud, influential people happily tell whoever will listen that gender nonconforming people are confused, perverts, and sinners.

Unfortunately there is a precedent to these wildly inaccurate accusations. For decades a man who dressed as a girl or wore girl clothes was played off as a sexual deviant or as comedy in television shows or movies. I mean, what’s more hilarious than a big strong man wearing a dress?

Since we grew up likely seeing this portrayal, it’s never a surprise when this harmful stereotype has ingrained itself into someone, even subconsciously. Since all gender nonconforming person is different, we can’t come out to someone using the same language that someone else uses. Much of coming out as has to involve clarification and education. What I mean is that if I were to come to someone as transgender, I would need to explain that identifying as transgender doesn’t necessarily mean transitioning. It doesn’t mean estrogen, it doesn’t mean surgery, it doesn’t mean changing the gender identification on my driver’s license.

I mean, it can, but it doesn’t have to. Again, Merriam-Webster has my back here.

So, if transgender DOESN’T mean transitioning, what DOES it mean to be transgender? Again, that is up to the individual.

Honestly, the idea of coming out to anyone, especially my two friends, seems exhausting and overwhelming. The Talk is rarely simple and usually is an ongoing and constantly evolving conversation that can take years.

I can’t see myself coming out to them. If I were to transition or present en femme fulltime, that would be a different story, but I happily live this duality. I don’t like the idea of choosing one gender to present as for the rest of my life. I don’t feel uncomfortable or “wrong” when I present as masculine.

But there’s a feeling of dishonesty when it comes to not coming out. I mean, there’s this absolutely important and significant part of my life that two of my closest friends are completely in the dark about. Of course, there’s the question of if they would even want to know about, well, all of this. Personally if a loved one in my life had something this significant about them I would absolutely hope that they would feel comfortable sharing it with me.

Would they be accepting? I think so. But there’s always, ALWAYS, the chance that I am wrong. It’s possible, although not likely, that my gender identity would end our friendship.

Remember when I said I tend to be purpose driven? That is the main reason I haven’t come out to them. For me, there’s no reason to do so. If I were to transition, then yes, they, along with everyone else, would need to know. I don’t feel I need their support, either. What I mean is that I feel very supportive in my life when it comes to my gender identity. I have people in my life, especially my wife, who love and accept who I am. Hannah has her friends who are happy to listen and talk and shop with me.

Essentially I don’t feel I have anything MISSING from my life/lives.

Coming out to them wouldn’t really benefit my life or theirs. Again, I feel they would be accepting and supportive, buuuuut I feel I have the acceptance and the support I need. Truth be told I have almost done so, but in the end I am glad I did not.

Please don’t misunderstand what I mean here. Support and friendship is crucial to everyone, regardless of gender identity. I am not saying you should remain in the closet (unless you are selecting an outfit for the day) but coming out can’t be undone. Before you do so, think carefully.

Love, Hannah