Hannah McKnight: Friendship is Magic

 

Of all the emails I receive, asking how to meet others like us is at the top of the list. If the email is asking about how to meet a girl like us for “fun”, I tend to ignore it.

It’s not easy making friends as we get older. When we were kids we made five new best friends every day, but as grown-ups we have our work colleagues that we begrudgingly make small talk with and that’s about it.  I hate it when I am asked about my weekend.  I mean, what am I going to tell them?  That I had a makeover and went lingerie shopping?  

No one understands a t-girl like a t-girl. Humans are social creatures and we need each other (sometimes). Whenever I want to do something and think that someone in HIS life would like to come along I begin to consider inviting them and obviously coming out to them. Of course, this means The Talk.

At the very thought of The Talk my energy level just plummets. So many things to think about when it comes to this discussion. Can they be trusted? Will they be accepting? Will they understand? Will they relate? Will they be embarrassed to go out with me?

And the big one: Will it be worth it?

I had lunch recently with my two best male friends and I cannot tell you how many times I had considered coming out to them over the decades. But each time I see them I am reminded that it wouldn’t have been a good decision. They are lovely people and I think they would be supportive, but… well, they are not curious people.

I might be unfair here, but let me explain.

When someone I know tells me something about themselves and their life or career, it will likely trigger a lot of questions about them such as why they chose that career or why a certain hobby interests them or a zillion other questions that might cross the line of being intrusive.  But I am curious about them.  I am fascinated by what motivates my friends and what makes them tick.  

Over lunch we chatted about old friends (what else do old friends talk about when they are all close to their fiftieth birthday?) and what is happening in our respective careers. Spoiler alert: everyone’s job sucks.

I can’t help feeling (and I understand I might be presumptuous here) if I were to come out to them they would acknowledge it and reassure me that I am still their friend and that would be it.

And yes, on one hand that’s all that we want. To come out and to be assured that the revelation didn’t impact anything.

But there’s two things that would be a little frustrating and possibly a little heartbreaking about such an almost dismissive response.

 

Thing One:

Really? That’s it? No questions? No curiosity? Not even the normal questions? I mean, if a friend came out to me or shared something that was completely out of the blue (or out of the pink) I would annoy the hell out of them with endless questions. After all, they are my friends and I would want to know them as much as I could. Besides, I am often curious about lives or hobbies that I have no experience with, whether it’s a career as an astronaut or a dominatrix or a paleontologist.

Thing Two:

Kind of intertwined with Thing One, but the lack of questions will lead to a lack of understanding. And understanding is a lot to ask when it comes to identifying as non-binary on any level. I don’t know if most cisgender people consider whether or not the gender they were assigned at birth is the most fitting. I don’t think the friends I am discussing here ever consider wearing a skirt (but again, I am being presumptive here). When we come out to someone we are likely braced for the normal questions that mostly relate to sexuality and transitioning. As annoying and as tiresome as these questions can be, they are also usually asked in an effort to understand.

 

As I mentioned, understanding is a LOT to ask. The reason is that I don’t understand myself why I was born this way. If I don’t understand it, I can’t expect someone else to. But what I can hope for is someone to be able to relate to what I feel, what I want, and what feels right.

What I mean (and I promise I will get back to Thing Two in a moment) is that although I don’t think my old friends will be able to relate to wanting to wear panties or how a cute dress makes me feel beautiful, I think we can relate to how clothes and presentation can help us how we feel and how we look and how we identify can feel right or wrong.

One of these two friends played football through college. He mentioned to me once that although he is normally calm and measured, once he puts all his gear on, he feels transformed, he feels powerful, he feels confident.

Same, girl.

But instead of cleats and a helmet, I have my wig and stilettos.

Not the same, but relatable.

Anyway, back to Thing Two.

I feel that there’s a LOT of aspects to gender identity and that there’s a lot of aspects that others can assume. If I come out as transgender, it wouldn’t surprise me if they assumed I would be transitioning. I am not, and can’t imagine that I will. Although I don’t can’t expect someone to understand, I want to at least avoid being misunderstood.

When someone asks a question about anything, it’s a way for them to obtain information. But I feel that the question itself they ask can also be informative. They are communicating to you what they want to know and why they want to know. These questions are an attempt to relate to me, to put this revelation into a context that they understand. With their questions I can connect with them and slowly they can begin to get an idea of who I am and who I am not.

Effective communication is when you can explain something that is complex and nuanced to someone in a way that they themselves can explain the same thing to another person. Avoiding misunderstanding when it comes to my gender identity is important because I want to control the narrative. After all, it’s my gender, it’s my story, it’s my identity.

Without questions, they will likely make assumptions (intentional or not) that may be wrong. When each of my friends go home their wives, who are both curious people, will likely ask their husbands about their lunch date. There’s a good chance that they might share a major revelation about their friend.

And this will likely inspire the normal questions. The questions I would have liked to have been asked. Questions that will lead to information, and ultimately relatability. Of course, if their husbands don’t have any answers (because they didn’t ask questions) they might, well, get it wrong.

Again, I don’t want to be misunderstood.

So! My point in all of this (and this isn’t even the topic of this writing) is that coming out is exhausting but we need friends.

The solution? Making friends with others like us.

No questions about the WHYS or anything. We get it. We relate to each other. We know the joy and the insecurity and the complexities and the countless little emotions and dreams and fears this side of us brings.

But the solution isn’t easy. How do you make friends as an adult, let alone how do you make friends with others like us, especially when so many of us are in the closet (on some level)?

It’s not often I see someone I feel is likely trans out in the real world. And even if I did, the last thing I would do is clock them. PLEASE do not go up to someone and acknowledge, even gently and respectfully, their transness. I would DIE if that happened. Not because I am trying to pass, but my god can you think of a more awkward way to strike up a conversation?

(A little disclaimer here: if someone were to come up to me and ask where I buy my heels that’s a little different. In a way, that’s another way to ask another transgirl where to find stilettos that fit. Other exceptions include someone confiding in me that their son/brother/boyfriend is also, well, like me, and they just want to talk with someone.)

When t-girls tell me that they never see others like them at the mall or whatever, I ask them if they’re sure. What I mean is when I am presenting as male I doubt anyone would even consider that I am not as male as I appear to be. There’s always a chance that the guy fixing your car is going to go home and paint his nails.

Everyone is potentially like us. But we can’t just ask them. That’s even more awkward than clocking someone. I mean, can you imagine asking that mechanic if he likes to wear pretty dresses? If someone were to ask me that while I am in male mode I would ignore them… even though I heart pretty dresses.

Never out someone. Never clock someone.

Never.

Anyway, what’s a girl to do? Like everything else in life, the solution is found on the internet. That damned internet.

Need food? Internet. Need panties? Internet. Need to make friends? Internet.

Please understand I am not referring to dating websites. There are many forums out there where girls like us are. These forums were crucial in my early days. It’s where I learned of different makeup techniques and where I made my first friends.

There are websites for our community and I used to post on several of them quite a lot. But as time passed I visited these sites less often. I found them so so so helpful and supportive in the early steps of my journey and I am so grateful they exist. The forums and chat rooms provide a safe (most of the time, when they are not invaded by chasers) and loving and supportive community. Again, no one understands, or can relate to, someone like us like someone like us.

One of the common threads on forums is asking each other which city they live in and inevitably where does a girl like us go. I found a thread for the Minneapolis/Saint Paul area and exchanged a few messages with Liz. This was about fifteen years ago and I am still friends with her to this day.

Liz was (and is) very friendly and said that she usually goes to a place called The Townhouse. I was aware of a few queer bars and nightclubs in the area but not this one. The Townhouse, until it changed owners some time ago, was the first gay bar in the Twin Cities and was, in many ways, a rite of passage for a girl like us. I cannot tell you how many girls like me went to The Townhouse for their first time out.

After a few back and forths, and after a lot of encouragement from Liz, I accepted her invitation to meet up with her on a Saturday evening. I picked out a cute dress, my wife helped me with my eye makeup, and soon I was nervously and excitedly driving to The Townhouse. I parked and it took a moment to realize that I was OUT OF THE HOUSE and that I DROVE IN STILETTOS. These were major accomplishments. My nervousness told me that this was enough adventure for the day and maybe I should stop pressing my luck and go home.

But Liz was waiting. I didn’t want to flake out on her. I don’t know if I would have stepped out of my car if she wasn’t expecting me and I didn’t want to ghost her. Having people in your life can make you accountable with your actions and can often help with following things through. I nervously strutted in (you can strut AND be nervous at the same time. Fake it ’til you make it, after all) and there she was. We chatted and she introduced me to a few of her friends, some I am still friends with to this day.

My circle of friends continued to expand when I started to attend local support groups for the LGBTQ+ community. And I know what some of you are thinking… that you are not transgender and those groups are not for you. At the time I didn’t identify as transgender but over the years my definition for the T word has expanded and I feel that it does include anyone who was assigned male at birth who likes clothes that boys don’t typically wear outside of the house. Although I didn’t feel I needed support I did meet others like myself and their confidence inspired me.

If you want to make friends, I feel you need to focus on the “making” part. You have to create friendships and you must seek them out. What I mean is that there is a certain amount of effort one must make in order to accomplish this.

Have fun and be safe.

Love, Hannah