How am I treated? Pt 1

So, for once I am not talking just about myself (although it is my blog so I guess it is allowed...). And I should warn you - it all sounds rather bleak at the beginning. But bear with it. It is all really positive in the end :)

One massive delay in starting my transition was my fear of how I would be treated. Not by those around me - I choose my friends carefully! So whilst I was nervous about their reactions, I was never worried that it would get grim. Same with family - I didn't choose them but I think we are all a likeable bunch-ish. Co -workers is a little different. Especially in my old job, I figured some may have made my life really awkward and been able to make things difficult so I only told a few people and kept my early transition in the closet at work. Again, I chose carefully. And I chose wisely.

But folks on the outside, regular people, those buggers everywhere. It was them I was scared of. As a young indie kid I constantly took abuse from the public. Wearing makeup, having pink hair - just being different - made some morons think that I was a fair target for abuse - both verbal and physical. And I was not really one for standing up for myself so I ended up with many black and busted eyes, etc. Luckily never anything bad as I was actually pretty good at taking a beating (which is something I put to good use when climbing - although maybe I should just learn to be more careful...).

As life went on I tried to blend more into the background. Stand out less. Just be a literal dark shadow passing by. Course, folks head to toe in black don't actually disappear into shadows and can tend to stand out just as much as having shoulder length pink hair.

I also got angry with the world at this stage and when someone gave me grief, I learnt to give it back. I am not violent. I just want to stand up for myself and not get beat on. I want to feel safe. And once I did, less bullies bothered to try it on.

But loosing up to a third of your muscle mass and becoming part of a minority well known for drawing physical abuse - well. That is not something you do lightly. Add that to the constant reports of rights violations against trans-folk, the lack of understanding in the world at large and the general way that trans-folk are ridiculed and despised and you have very little reason to want to put yourself out there. 

Except that you have to. Keeping it inside just screws you up. There are an increasingly brave number of youths that transition because they need to but for anyone older the truth is that many just cannot face that. Many see three options; bottle it up, let it out or escape in a very permanent way. The suicide rate is high, trans* deaths are high and everyday verbal and physical abuse is insane (compared to the average population). Make no mistake, the trans* community is fragile.

        

So I have my fear and I delay the inevitable (as I have no intention of giving up). I took strength from the many brave folks that went before me and I knew that being in Zurich (and, soon, the UK) as well as having an amazing group of friends meant that I was probably in a great place. I had the best chance I could have and I could not waste it. So, you know, I didn't.

I had been out a few times in the past and it was never quite so scary once you headed out the door. Course, I was with friends I knew would have my back and only heading to relatively safe places but it was all good. Heading out in the village was lovely. To be dressed how I felt was just amazing. Of course you have some strays that would laugh or shout although not usually at me so that was good (not so good for the girls who did get the grief though). And any odd stares were just kinda water off a ducks back. Plus I did get compliments and have creepy guys try it on so whilst those advances were not welcome it did let me think I was not some huge freak. Taxis were the only real worry - especially at the start of the night pre-alcohol but honestly they just let me get on with it.

I was not ready for the daytime though. Being in a safe place is one thing but the wide world is scary!!! I'd go shopping and draw odd glances. Some shop girls (I avoided the males) were nice and helpful. Some gossiped with others. My trips were all rather grab and dash resulting in awful choices and wrong sizes. I did, over time, get a little more confident. I would chat to the MAC staff about the best choices for me. I would try boots and shoes on in stores in the open. I sometimes tried stuff on. I got stares and probably drew more gossip but I kept it brief then got outta there. And it was all something of a rush. But I was never confident and it never felt comfortable.

After months of hormones I knew I had to tackle the wide world. Being a gothy-indie kid I was able to shift my clothing reasonably subtly without anyone really thinking anything of it. My jeans became girls jeans (well - all my jeans belonged to a girl, they were now also cut for girls). My vests became almost dress length. My tops became open necked. My shoes and scarves went pink and my boots became very cute as heck. But this all got me the question "why are you modelling yourself on Dracula?" as, when folks regarded me, this was the easier connection. Then I added nail varnish. Then eyeliner. My hair became styled and less untidy. Just bit by bit. And I went out with friends (who knew) like this. There were stares still but I was happy to have them. It just felt right and that gave me the confidence to just... be.

Eventually I finished my work contract and I went for it. A day out in full makeup. Scary as heck. I rushed away from my town where there may be someone that knew me and became more relaxed when I knew I was just a face in the crowd. As strange a face as it may be (nothing new there though). Annoyingly I was great at 'night-out' makeup but it turned out not so good at day makeup! Most people let me pass by but I stood out and I knew it. Still I was in one of the safest cities in the world and I never felt unsecure. I would get coffee and the barista would treat me like normal, despite clear recognition of my gender state. Which is all I wanted! 

And now i will give you a break. But the next post, well, it shows just how fine folks are. And why I should believe in humanity more!

So what is in a name?

This is not something that always requires much thought. Maybe when naming your cat or kid or car. And some of you may even have thoughts about your own name - do you like it or love it. But I expect that generally it is not something you have thought on so much. 

Recently I had to think on my name a lot and in a few different ways as I sent off my legal name change. Is my new name right for me? Is it the right time to change it? Am I ready? What title do I use? And can I let go of my old name?

I always disliked the name Paul. Not that I particularly dislike it, it just never felt like it suited me. I didn't know why I felt that way, but I always did. My name always felt a little alien to me. Kinda obvious now of course!

As I come to send off my deed poll I suddenly start to worry. I have had this name a long time. In some ways it has defined me - having used my name to build a scientific reputation in my field meaning that many people may know me by name only. But then, I was only so worried about that.

For some reason I felt that by signing away my name, which you do with a deep poll - you agree to actually give up your name -- I would also be signing away my history. My mother gave me the name. It was the first thing she gave me. I may feel like the name does not suit me, but it has been me. 

Of course, the idea that I am giving away my history is crazy. My memories remain, why would they change? I know they will not go away. But it does somehow feel like changing your name is somehow going to make you a different you. I guess that is why so many trans* folk are so keen to change their names as soon as they can. They feel the disconnect with the name they have, like I had, but also want to become a different person. I understand that, but I like my history. I like who I am and I don't plan to change all that much. However, I did need to change my name and it did feel like a big, positive step as part of my transition. So I did it with the same feeling as when I started my hormones - a here we go attitude. Turns out that it is pretty easy to do.

So, what about the actual name? Well, my mother had provided my first name and I felt that she should have a large input into my new name. 

Funny story. So I have been going out ‘en femme’ as it were for years. I have had a trans* online presence for ages. When I started, I had to choose a name. I had this notion that my mother had planned to call me Sally had I been born, well - obviously and biologically born - a girl. So I used this name online and in clubs for years. You know, that secret life I had that none of you knew about!

But, in truth, I never really felt the name suited me. I used it because, even though she did not know about me at the time, I wanted to keep my mother's involvement in my name present. When I came out to her, I said I had to decide on a name. I told her that I was known as Sally as I knew she was going to call me that. Turns out, somehow I had made that fact up. Totally. No idea how or why but there you go. And as a result I got the 'oh god no, I really don't see you as a Sally'. haha. Oh well. 

So that was kind of nice. Not only was I changing my name from my male name, but also from what I now see as my transvestite name. I was no longer either of those things, officially, so a new name felt right.

And what goes into the choice? Well - I really did not want a name a friend or family member has. That would have felt weird for me. Then you have to take into consideration film, comic and cartoon characters. Not wanting to be named after a jerk! Not too girly. Not too male. Paula and Pauline just are not for me. And once you have a name, you need to check it online to find it's root, find out what it means. So lots to consider.

And as I say, I wanted my mother's input. So I gave her suggestions and let her have a think. She came back with Clara and I loved it. I had had very similar ideas and a quick google (verb) shows it to mean 'light' from the Greek which is really pretty cool. So Clara it is. It helps that it is also the name of a kick ass Dr Who companion, but that is not why!

A middle name was easy. Michael was quite important to my identity as a kid as it differentiated me from the lad that sat next to me at school, Paul James Barker. It is funny how important that middle name became to me. And I like the female version, Michelle. It gives me a link to the original name chosen for me by my mother and I wanted to have that link if I could.

So there we go, the choosing of the name. But the using of it, well, that takes getting used to. 

Even in a dress and makeup, for some reason I have, until recently, always said Paul when asked in Starbucks. That important temple. No idea why but there ya go. I did manage to change that though, and once the cycle was broken I stuck with it!

I even did it at a bra fitting a while back. Muppet! But now I use it when I order things online, I applied for jobs as Clara. It really helps that in my new job and home I am only known as Clara. That is legal now. No one makes a mistake because they do not know any different. I am introduced as Clara, my badge says Clara, my work email is Clara. And the way friends have taken to it - that is awesome. I have noticed, those I talk to on Facebook often have taken to it easier - presumably because they see it before every message so that when we meet, it is something they have seen a lot. For others it is taking longer, and understandably so - they know me as Paul and have little 'practice', I guess you could say, getting used to the new name. But they try and they improve. I am now even Auntie Clara to my niece which is amazing. 

My name is becoming much more natural to me, and I love it - it is becoming 'mine' as well as just being legally mine. I even have my new signature down - something I had not even thought about till recently! 

One final pause for consideration, for me at least. When you fill out a deed poll to change your name, you can also change the title you have. And this was very confusing for me. Because I am not going from Mr to Miss - I have the title Dr. I worked bloody hard for that title and it is something I am proud of. I want people to recognise it - there is nothing more annoying when I send an official email or letter as Dr. Barker and then I get a reply to Mr. Barker. Jerks. 

But for so much longer, I have wanted to be recognised as female. And yes, I have worked hard at that too. It is harder for society to accept me as female than a Dr (although folk do struggle when they see me with that too...). So I have the chance to put Miss on a passport and driving license. This forces people to recognise me as female. Hopefully stops them from mis-gendering me. I am She, Her, Hers. And I VERY much do not want people to be under any confusion about that. I was so happy in the MAC store to be asked "Miss or Mrs”. It grates me when I wear make-up and people call me sir or mate or dude. Note, I do not mind when my friends slip, it is to be expected. But strangers doing it out of ignorance - or on purpose. Yep. They can get stuffed. 

So yes. My gender, and how it is acknowledged is so important to me. But at the same time I have also achieved the title Dr. It does give me an air of respectability given that I am a goth and goths are not taken seriously. Such a hard choice. What would you do?

Coming out (and making transition real)

So, I do not plan – at this moment – to really share specific stories so much. As I ramble this may happen. But really I want to talk about the process. Who, when, why and less of the how.

Coming out is hard to do. Make no mistake. Any of you out there reading this that have come out as gay or trans, I have a remarkable amount of respect. More so if you did it to a hostile or uncertain audience. I cannot begin to image the courage that that would take. BUT  -  if you are reading this and want to come out as something or other – it is a remarkably liberating thing to do. A weight lifts and all the uncertainties disappear. If you are lucky, this allows you to move on without loss – but I know that loss and hardships can follow. Take your time – and be certain about it. And choose your timing and ordering. This is important.

So why is it so hard – or rather why was it for me. I have been so careful over the years with my friends. Not consciously but when someone gives off bad vibes I shy away from them and just want nothing to do. I think I read people well, and act on that. But I am also lucky that those I went to uni with and work with are damn awesome too. I have known rubbish folk, but I drop them as soon as I can. But it is still scary to come out. First up, even though you know the people you are coming out to – sometimes folk surprise you. So that fear will always exist. Especially if you do not really know what to make of your situation yourself. Then it gets really hard. And the other things is – saying “I am trans” to those you know makes it, suddenly, real. And that is hard. We always want the way out, to not have things fixed in place. But once you have said that, people will always have it in their thoughts even if you ‘change your mind’ (?!?!). Also I would suggest that the general populace does not really get what transgender is – as shown but the often follow up question “so are you gay” – which, note, I did not really get.

So I previously mentioned living with two very close friends. I was really struggling with my gender at the time and trying to work out what to do about it. When you have a problem you need to discuss it – it is simple as that. And I thought about it, a lot. I knew my best friend would not judge me. I knew. But I still could not quite bring myself to say anything, despite being so close. On numerous occasions we ended up chatting, me drunk and in tears. Once I said I thought I was gay – for some reason this felt easier and more understandable than being trans. But it was not true and he knew it – and said so. That was the closest I got. Had I said what I really thought I would have been able to discuss it afterwards. Maybe I would have then told the counsellor I was seeing at the time, been passed on to the gender clinic etc. and got this whole ball rolling a lot sooner. I didn’t. And whilst I wonder what would have happened, it is what it is and I had awesome experiences from not starting my transition then – so I regret nothing. And, the truth is that I just was not ready. Close, but not ready.

Once I started to transition, my plan was not to tell anyone until I was ready to go full time. Hahaha. Did not happen! A month in, the first few changes showing, and I was too excited. I wanted to get on with stuff and also to be able to share, discuss things – let my friends in on the best time of my life. So I thought about it. Who do I tell, when and how. For all my close friends I would have loved to tell everyone face to face. But being abroad and seeing folks so rarely, this was not really possible. Skype? Well, possible. But then – at first – I was not sure I could really look someone in the eye and say “I am female”.

Before I started on hormones I had had a few discussions. One of my friends is somewhat gender fluid and he has always known I am trans as I used to go out dressed with him and discuss my thoughts. Another friend I drunkenly told I was seriously considering transition. I told both these folks knowing that it would not really impact their thoughts of me being some of the most liberal folk I know. But these chats were pretty speculative. “I am thinking of doing this”. And I was met with positivity and the urge to do what was right for me. This was a great start. But once I started coming out, once hormones had been ingested, it would no longer be speculative. It would be a fact – I am doing this. Eeps.

So I started easy. My two best friends at the time. Who I knew would not judge me and would hopefully provide me with some support. I compiled careful emails, then sent messages to tell them to read them. And waited. As expected, the response was positive. Full of excitement for me, if a little confusion and lots of surprise. A constant theme of my coming out was surprise followed by the sentence “Whhhaaaattt???? But yes, in hindsight, I am not surprised at all”. I still do not know what it was about me the elicited this response! And so I had the joy of being able to share, chat about what was important to me honestly for the first time, have the beginning out of the way – oh how the weight lifted.

Anyways, following those two, and armed with some new confidence, I told a bunch of old friends – part of the crowd I was with when I first realised who I was. Funny – I did not really have much contact with them at that stage. But for some reason, I knew they would accept me and I felt close enough that they were the right people to head to next. And they did. It got easier with each exchange (via Facebook chats – I would not see these folk for a long while). As a result, I feel like I have regained some of the closeness I lost with these folk, and that is amazing. Oh – and a quick note. You send messages and know folks may not read them straight away – that wait is a bit of a mare in truth! But you just have to deal with it!!!

So now those closest to me. The ones that would feel the weirdest from my point of view – my mother and sister. I did not want to leave them out of the loop till the end but at the same time I had needed the confidence from telling my friends before I had the strength to tell my family. I knew I would see my mother and felt that face to face was important. I had a trip planned where I would pass though home twice and the timing was too good. I knew I needed to take advantage of it - I would arrive one night, tell her the next, leave for a few days whilst she mulled it over and then return for a few days later to chat. The timing really was perfect. Telling her was hard though. When I told my friends, it made the situation real. When I told her, it sealed it in concrete. I could always go back – but it would be harder from here on out. And whilst I say I wanted to tell her face to face – I don’t think I actually looked at the her the entire night! It was great. Confusing for her, but she accepted it. Afterwards I sent YouTube vlogs from folk with similar personalities to me, and she has soaked it all up. Amazing.

My mother then tried to push the issue with a sudden trip to my sisters before I left again. I had not expected to see my sister and I just was not ready. You have to be ready and it took a lot out of me to tell my mother. I did not fear rejection from her, but a shift in our relationship. With friends, you will always be friends. But family have raised you. And – more – the terms change son becomes daughter. Brother becomes sister. This is a real shift. More than he and she. And I was the ‘man’ of the family. I have tried, if not so well, to be the rock when needed. Would this change. Time will tell – but this takes a lot out of your head.

So I bailed from that confrontation with my sister. I needed to tell her soon and I knew that it had to be Skype for timing reasons. So I did. I just went for it. Funny, my mum and sister are so different. But they both said “it is up to you. It is your life”. That made me laugh. But she was cool. It will take time to adjust. How can it not? 

I am 30 years in, just coming to terms with it and still not quite there. Why should I expect folk I know to just accept it? I don’t quite, yet. Time is required. But my family and friends know how happy I am – I am told it is pretty obvious. And they love me and are happy for me. Over time, it will become less weird for us all. And I look forward to that. But in the meantime, my family have treated me absolutely normally and I am so lucky to have them as a family.

Oh, I never actually told my brother in law but figured that once my sister knew, he knew. It seemed crazy to then ‘tell’ him. We have talked since and just carried on as normal. I hope he does not feel put out by the assumption – but it just seemed right.

So then I told more and more folk. Slowly. Many online. Some I knew I would see in the near future so I waited to tell them face to face. It meant I left some longer than I planned, but I wanted the chance to do it this way. Ha. As time went on, it almost became fun to tell folk. A few said "ah, yes. Doesn't surprise me." That surprised me - why is it not a surprise?  I had two folk who I told and, basically they said – “that is amazing. Oh wow. So happy for you. We always knew there was something on your mind and this makes so much sense. Perfect. This is amazing for you” (paraphrased). I think this took me by surprise the most – especially as I told the two from the same group separately and said they both said the exact same thing. Makes me laugh so much to look back on it. It was such a strengthening experience – you would not believe.

A lot of people now know, including work folk, and I have not had a single negative or snide comment. I am a very blessed person and this allowed me to start enjoying the process. By now everyone that I want to know does pretty much. The situation is done – out of the way. And as I described in a previous blog – I feel like I can get on with my life and I feel so much lighter and happier than I ever have.

So my friends and family are ace. But what do I expect from the general public…