Post the Seventeenth: Con Report Part 2
Time to back up and explain things. Fair warning in case you didn't parse it from last time: I'm going to be talking about being trans. While I try to keep it light-hearted and very generalized, it does involve me speaking frankly about things like growing up closeted, etc. So if those things are an issue for you--for one, I'm sorry--but also you may want to skip over this entry.
(Also, not going to pretend any of this is particularly well-written.)
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| Leftover drawing provided for buffer space. |
On some level I don't know where to start with this. Growing up in the mid-80s I was always very aware that I was extremely boyish. I was also aware that this was a marked disappointment to my parents, who had already gone through one tomboy kid and really wanted me to be this frilly super-effeminate girl with blonde curls.
They did not get that. They got the kid that played with robots, rooted around in the woods, and had zero interest in taking care of their hair. To their credit, they did not try to "hammer me back into place" that hard, but it was also clear that how I was wasn't what they wanted.
Additionally, living put in the country as we did and having parents that worked full time jobs (Dad working two, actually) also meant that I spent a surprising amount of my childhood isolated.
Things were mostly okay until puberty. Before that, no one cared. Then suddenly, everybody had to line up in two separate groups, no exceptions. Furthermore, it was like the groups were not allowed to mix? Two months ago it was okay to be a "girl" and have "boy" friends, but now it was super weird and gross? And doubling down on how boys and girls were supposed to behave? And all of this was determined by body parts?? Not how you think or thought or behaved? I remember that being the first time realizing something was definitely up. Like, I fully understood the rules, but they were arbitrary and kind of BS.
Spent most of that time in various states of making the best of it. It's hard to convey how certain things will never dawn on you if they aren't even in your periphery. Back then, especially in my neck of the woods, "gay" meant "homosexual man." Any other words or concepts were either derogatory or...just didn't exist. And if you were born with a vagina those things didn't apply to you anyway.
But it's fine! Right? This the modern era, yes? Equal rights and all that. Why, what even would be the difference living as a man vs living as a woman? Why, they're treated exactly the same! EXACTLY. THE SAME.
This became more noticeable as I got older. In college I met a ton off of cool people...and some honestly not cool people. Where as my parents made suggestions as to what they wanted, but otherwise shrugged and moved on with their life there were some folk in college that clearly didn't have a concept of gender so much as a list of grievances against the opposite sex. With or without the implication of mental illness. So they felt the need to police behavior.
Don't be so loud (like the boys).
Stop harmlessly horsing around (like the boys) or people will think you're mentally ill.
Don't cosplay male characters.(That's icky.)
Responding with baby talk if you show interest in anything that isn't on the approved list of Girl's Interests.
And I don't bring this up because I want to make hash out of 30+ year old beef. That was literally ages ago and the people who did those things then are literally not the same people now. At worst they don't remember. At best they're better people now (a person can hope). I just bring these things up as examples of poor behavior. Behavior that pissed me off and made me feel lesser. 0.Also, not going to pretend any of this is particularly well-written.And for my part, I should've really told those dillweeds off. But I had grown up a hair too sheltered, was afraid of losing ALL my friends, and didn't know better. And it wasn't like anyone else appeared to be disagreeing with these people, so that meant they were right? Yes?
No.
Fast forward to roughly 3 years ago. Ambling along. Making due. Due to a strings of events not really germane to the point at hand, I had gotten an idea for a short comic and was doing the next logical step of writing up characters.
They all formed pretty easily and fully (well, as fully as I'm capable of making characters), but one in particular kept sticking in my head. The trans character.
That one sprung from whole cloth nearly fully formed. Name, backstory, personality. Where other characters took time and consideration, that one just sort of jumped into the story, as if it had always been there. In fact, it took some wrestling to keep them from overrunning that particular story. And as soon as I started meditating on the issue, things clicked into place.
It was one of those stupid epiphany things. A completely schlocky moment of realizing what probably should've been obvious from jump.
Two weeks later the election happened.
Understandably I was not okay. Decided to keep things to myself while I tried to better figure things out.
So doth enters cosplay into this story. Costuming not only fixed a problem that never should've happened in the first place, but gave me an opportunity to work things out while maintaining culpable deniability.
Very masculine outfit? No worries. It's just a silly costume.
Outlandish dandy? I dunno, man. That's just kinda how they are in game.
Cologne? Of course. No one wants you smelling like a yak.
Also in a position to compare "skirt version" vs "pants version". And it was amazing to me how one felt like a costume (skirt version) while the other just felt like "clothes" (pants version).
So that went amazingly well. I just felt...fantastic being like that. Brief existential crisis aside.
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| It is the year 2040. The wars have not stopped. Feral chickens roam the streets. The air is surprisingly breathable despite all the wildfires. There is a Grunkle Stan at DragonCon. |
Shout out to other people just doing normal con things. I hadn't realized how much compartmentalizing I was doing. Instead of meditating on issues as I went along, all that stress clearly got shoved in a box labeled "later." But once there was no more room for doubt, it all came crashing down at once.
Now that I could no longer ignore it, a lot of things boiled up to the surface. It was like every self-defense built up over the decades failed at once. At times I got sad (and very angry) over time lost. Also frustrated at the people in my life who could've been more helpful but instead chose...otherwise. But there's nothing a person can do about what happened then. Only what can happen now.
To that end, I don't know. In the bigger picture I, hmm... (gestures at the world around) really don't know. Things are scary AF but still somehow don't seem completely hopeless. On a smaller scale I have gone ahead and made an appointment to speak with a doc. We'll see how that goes.
Came out my mom (Dad passed away a while ago). That was not an experience I'd recommend. Came out to a few people but quickly lost the energy. It's exhausting! And none of that is for my benefit, really. If it were we wouldn't be sitting on a couch or whatever, trying make the non coming-out person as comfortable as possible. No, we'd be at a loud(ish) party where you hand me $100 and/or a coupon for a trendy clothier. Also maybe a nice pencil set.
And at this point I'm going to have to apologize because this post has gone on too long and I am not terribly comfortable talking about myself at length. Also I realize nothing here is ground shattering or scandalous. In fact, it probably comes off a bit boring. But in a way that is fine too.
Material Directory
Several baggy hoodies: I kiiiiiiiiiid.
Current background music: Carbon Based Lifeforms. "...and On." Seeker.
