As an adolescent, it seemed to me that I lacked an attraction to boys that I was assured I had. I suspected there was more to my feelings toward girls than friendship, but friendship was the only explanation I was offered.
I knew there was a fundamental difference in how I experienced my gender and how others perceived it, but I was told that there were two different types of people: boys and girls. And that these differences were entirely dependent on sex, of which there were only two. My feelings to the contrary were silly. My thoughts, overly imaginative.
I knew there were certain things that were inexplicably difficult for me. Things which seemed natural to most others. But I could not grasp them for all my attempts. My struggles were dismissed – I was deemed too smart to struggle.
These seemingly immutable facts, that I was a cisgender straight neurotypical female added up to only one possibility: the things that I felt to be true, couldn’t possibly be true. I started believing that I was incapable of knowing what was true. I started relying on other people to define who I was.
Because my feelings couldn’t be trusted, I made an earnest effort to stop having them. I didn’t ever stop having feelings, but I did, mostly, stop acknowledging them. I certainly didn’t consult them for the valuable information they can offer.
There were times when denying my feelings didn’t work. When I was overwhelmed by feelings. I saw others reach out to people to share their feelings and their burden seemed lifted, but I could never do it right. My feelings were always deemed too intense. When the relationships ended soon after, as they always did, I believed my vulnerability was to blame.
What I didn’t understand at the time was that none of these relationships I was trying to leverage in this very human way, were relationships with me. Rather, the other person had formed an attachment to a version of myself that existed only in response to them. So, when I suddenly had needs, it didn’t fit into the agreements of the relationship. The relationship was severed because I was unrecognizable when I was being myself.
Without this understanding, I doubled down. More and more of myself got buried as I worked hard to accurately mimic the behavior of others in a desperate attempt to find belonging. Each time disowning more of myself.
The first time I considered that maybe I knew something about myself that was true despite what anyone else thought was in claiming my sexuality. Still, it would be another 14 years before I realized I was transgender and a couple more still to seek an evaluation for autism. I’d love to confidently state that I’ve laid out all my suitcases, unpacked my baggage and that autism will be my final declaration, but I suspect that, given I was able to keep myself secret from me well into adulthood, I have above average ability for concealment. I guess we’ll see how it goes…
The beautiful part of unwrapping and owning these truths is that I finally have the pieces I need to puzzle out who I am, apart from what people want of me, or for me or from me. The curious part of getting to know myself, is watching other people seem to want to know me too. It’s surprising, exciting and…I feel deeply vulnerable.
I was chatting with my therapist, who is the world’s best therapist (sorry to those of you stuck with someone else) about these recent shifts I’ve noticed in how people respond to me. There is a warmth that was previously unseen. I was asking her for clarification as to what the fuck is going on – why are people being kind to me? She pointed out that this is the first time in my adult life that people have had the opportunity to get to know me for who I am. Sure, I acted cool in the moment, but a couple weeks later that is still echoing in my mind. What if she’s right (which, she, somewhat annoyingly, has a perfect track record)? What if no one liked me because there was nothing of any substance to like? Just the application of social calculations trying to solve for belonging.
Last summer I posted To Take the Mask Off? which ended with me taking an emotional risk, and lowering my mask but not knowing what would happen next. That risk and its payoff feels directly linked to my current reality.
I had been struggling for months – thrown off my game by a professional upset. I was jumbled ball of feelings. I wanted something I wasn’t sure I could ever have, felt ashamed for wanting it and powerless to change any of it.
I don’t recall what lead to my colleague and I exchanging messages about the matter that particular day, but at one point she said something that felt dismissive to me. I was hurt. And I was strangely conscious that I was hurt. I thought, “What if I did things differently? What if I didn’t just pretend to not be hurt?”
I’m not sure what it was about her – perhaps her thoughtful nature, the sincerity of her gaze when she’s talking to you, her quiet strength – that made me wonder, “could I maybe just set my feelings down between us and trust her to stay where she is? I think she might not turn and leave.” And then, a few days passed.
The silence stretched on but there was an underlying trust, something that made me feel confident it was going to be ok, though I still don’t know why. And THEN, the most fascinating and transformative thing happened. She didn’t stay put. She moved toward me. She validated how I was feeling and explained her perspective.
It fundamentally changed my understanding of relationships. And maybe you’re thinking, “I don’t get it, that’s just normal human stuff.” But it’s not normal for me. So many things could have gone wrong, not the least of which were me lacking the courage to be vulnerable and transparent. She could have been unable to receive or unwilling to respond. There were any number of reasons for her to recoil. But she met me where I was at. And this one interaction, this one authentic connection, formed the foundation for all sorts of mask shedding activities.
Eventually, that mask, which had been ever present, started coming off more and more. And then, it started making fewer appearances. I am getting more aware of when I choose to put it on, and I look forward to taking it off. Less than a year ago I wasn’t sure what it meant to remove it.
Unwrap your truths, cherish each puzzle piece and find good humans you can trust to be vulnerable with. Become yourself. Life is full of infinite possibilities.
That's Mr. Gender to You 
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