I'm Not Special? Whaa!

Did you ever notice how common your special just became? When you're expecting, it seems like suddenly everyone is pregnant. If you buy a white car because nobody drives white cars and you want to find yours in parking lots, suddenly there are white cars everywhere. And, of course, when your child announces he or she is a she or he, you see transpeople everywhere.

It's almost comical. And it is a completely predictable phenomenon. Just like there is no dramatic increase in the birth rate corresponding to your pregnancy, there is no dramatic increase in the number of transpeople that you randomly see. (I should note that you may actually see a lot more transgender people, because you may meet your child's friends from a support group.) What does change is your awareness. You see a woman with "man hands" and while you may still remember that episode of Seinfeld, you also think, "I bet she's transgender."

I love to categorize everything and everyone. This is why I have a transdaughter, because God has a twisted sense of humor. She no longer fits in the box I designed for her at birth; this is confusing and stressful to me. I love her immensely, but I want to shove her in a box and she refuses. She patiently resists and forces me to accept that I cannot categorize everyone neatly. Some people are spheres or cones or stellated dodecahedrons and just don't snugly fit into boxes. And I have to learn to deal with that. I fail. I've accepted that not everyone is a cube, so I now I mentally try to plug them into different shaped boxes. It's a fun puzzle, but it may be wrong. 

It's weird to realize that you're looking at people differently. I don't know if it's right or wrong, or neutral. I noticed a transwoman because of her facial hair. Previously, my first thought would have been something along the lines of "menopause sucks" because I've noticed the need to wax more as fifty looms ever larger on the horizon. Now, my reaction is closer to "aw, poor thing, bet she can't wait to get laser hair removal." I realized I was looking at the world through my new prejudices, assuming basing on one observation. The "bearded lady" is almost certainly transgender, she had other tells.

I don't think it is right or wrong to wonder; I do think it's wrong to focus on that one external aspect of someone ~ just as it is wrong to decide what someone is like because of skin color. I'm working on noticing something else, anything else. While I notice race quickly (it's hard not to) I am pretty good at noticing more, so that race is just one facet of the of the box I store someone in. The new challenge is similar. When I notice someone is transgender, I find myself looking for another facet, the "bearded lady" has a great twinkle in her blue eyes, for example.

One big problem with noticing the little tells, is that the person you're studying may be aware that you are studying them. Do not ask, "Are you a dude or a chick?" This question will offend pretty much everyone. Do not ask, "Are you transgender?" This question will confuse or offend cisfolk and hurt transfolk. Imagine spending years with everyone thinking you are a girl, treating you as a girl, calling you a girl, but you are a boy and you have always known that. At long last, you have the courage to come out, to say, "Mom, Dad, you are so wrong about me." You begin to transition, to show the world who you really are, to think that the world sees the real you ~ and then some lummox asks if you are transitioning. Even if it's well-meaning, you have just announced to this person that they look like a fake. That is just plain mean.

Be special. Be awesome. Be the person who doesn't care what gender someone is when you first meet them. Be the person who just wants to make a new friend.