I came out as a dyke when I was 14 years old, and never faced any problems for it. I always liked butch women, lived in a liberal city, had wonderful, open, accepting parents, and a good strong lesbian community. But there was always something off about my gender, and I tried to come out as trans when I was 15 or 16 but just didn't know how to describe myself. So I continued identifying as a dyke, and just kind of withdrew gender-wise. I went to an all women's college and just refused to deal with my gender issues, except for a brief period during which I tried really, really hard to be a girl.
I was never "butch", I never identified as "butch" and I never felt like a butch woman. Boi, maybe, but never butch. I remember trying to differentiate my gender in my actor's bio for the Vagina Monologues (I wrote "proud to be female bodied" and the program editor changed it to "proud to be a woman" which upsets me to this day). Femmes wanted me to be butch, lesbians wanted me to be butch, but that never felt like an appropriate identity to me, and it always grated a little bit when someone used it on me.
I left Mills and ran into an old friend who had since come out as trans, and suddenly everything made sense. None of my friends ever pressured me into transitioning, or asked me if I was going to, or tried to force any kind of identity on me. I started using male pronouns of my own accord. I have decided to go on hormones because it feels right to me. I get better treatment when people see me as a butch woman than as a boy/trans man, so I don't feel like there's any societal pressure to transition. I think it's making my life harder for now, but that it is still the right decision for me.
I still date butch women, and I don't necessarily identify as 100% male, but I need to transition. The dyke community hasn't lost a butch, though, because I never was one. I'm not a "woman who became a man", I'm just a man who happened to live as a woman for a while.
Those of you who blame trans men for "butch flight" or blame a society that makes it "easier" to transition than to be a butch woman made me question myself carefully when I decided that physical transition was the right thing to do. I went through months of soul searching before I came to this decision. And you know what? It is the right thing, and it isn't hurting me or hurting you. It is making me feel more at home in my body (notice I said not socially, but bodily). I have met a lot of butch women, and I have dated a lot of butch women, and I really don't see them as a dying breed. I've certainly dated more butch women than I have trans men (and they're certainly not the same thing). And if they are a dying breed, it's not the fault of people like me, and I'm certainly not trying to "recruit" any young dykes to my "cause". I'm just living as works best for me.
People used to (and still do sometimes) think that gay and lesbian people would try to "recruit" their children and make them gay, too. This claim is, as we all know, totally 100% ridiculous. So why do modern Lesbians seem to think that trans guys are trying to pressure young butch dykes to become trans? It's just as foolish, just as strange, and just as wrong as thinking that you can make someone gay who isn't already.
I am not a misguided butch dyke, and neither are any of the other trans men I've met in my life. It just doesn't work like that.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
a letter on my gender
Mom,
when I came out to you as gay when I was fourteen years old, you said you worried that my life would be harder because I was out as queer. Now you're saying it when I try to come out to you as trans. You don't believe that I am really trans. You don't believe that starting hormones and living my life the way I need to is truly necessary. I understand your fears and concerns. I know that you think that asserting myself as male will make my life unnecessarily complicated, and that it won't do anything to improve my quality of life.
You are wrong. Being true to myself is only going to increase my happiness, my well being, my ability to succeed in life more than you can ever imagine. There are many things about me, which I cannot change, that make my life harder than the average bear's. I am short, and bipolar, and queer. But I don't let these things stop me. The one that has stopped me for the longest, being bipolar, I finally have under control. And I have it under control because I'm not ignoring it anymore; it's the same with my gender identity. I'm not ignoring it anymore, and I have to act on it. Being true to myself, asserting myself, telling people to use male pronouns, taking hormones, dressing in men's clothing, changing my name - it's all necessary. And it's all good. These changes, yes, they might make some people uncomfortable. But I can't live my life based on the fear that people will reject me for being who I am.
I hope you can understand that this is the right thing for me to do, that it is not a phase, that it is not based on some vague dissatisfaction with my life. This is who I am, and just because you never saw it doesn't mean that it wasn't there.
This is my decision, and I know that it's the right one.
Love, Rowan
when I came out to you as gay when I was fourteen years old, you said you worried that my life would be harder because I was out as queer. Now you're saying it when I try to come out to you as trans. You don't believe that I am really trans. You don't believe that starting hormones and living my life the way I need to is truly necessary. I understand your fears and concerns. I know that you think that asserting myself as male will make my life unnecessarily complicated, and that it won't do anything to improve my quality of life.
You are wrong. Being true to myself is only going to increase my happiness, my well being, my ability to succeed in life more than you can ever imagine. There are many things about me, which I cannot change, that make my life harder than the average bear's. I am short, and bipolar, and queer. But I don't let these things stop me. The one that has stopped me for the longest, being bipolar, I finally have under control. And I have it under control because I'm not ignoring it anymore; it's the same with my gender identity. I'm not ignoring it anymore, and I have to act on it. Being true to myself, asserting myself, telling people to use male pronouns, taking hormones, dressing in men's clothing, changing my name - it's all necessary. And it's all good. These changes, yes, they might make some people uncomfortable. But I can't live my life based on the fear that people will reject me for being who I am.
I hope you can understand that this is the right thing for me to do, that it is not a phase, that it is not based on some vague dissatisfaction with my life. This is who I am, and just because you never saw it doesn't mean that it wasn't there.
This is my decision, and I know that it's the right one.
Love, Rowan
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
For a really good preacher...
As might be evidenced by my last post, I'm a huge music lover. I'm especially enamored of singer/songwriters, I think mostly because I'm also a lover of poetry. There's just something about
Listening to music at home is great. I'm a big fan of car karaoke - playing a CD at top volume and driving around singing along. It's better than therapy. And it's really good to have background music for your life. I like to fall asleep to music. I like to listen to music while I walk, when I'm on the bus, when I'm knitting. But the best thing about music for me is going to concerts. As a performer myself, I understand the draw of both performing and being in the audience. It's something a friend of mine called "the feeback loop," where the audience gives the performer their energy, who then feeds it back to them, who feeds it back to the performer, etc, etc, until you have what I experience as a spiritual experience.
In my Sociology 101 class back at Mills, we discussed a concept that really captivated me: the sociology of God. The basic premise, as I understood it, is that when a group of people gets together and focuses on one thing, they create a presence, an energy, that is greater than themselves. Whatever this thing is, was the beginnings of what people called "god". I don't mean to discount religion, or to explain it away; I just want to say that this is how I experience religion and spirituality.
You can have a spiritual experience at any concert, but every once in a while you meet a performer who can truly channel that energy. I'd liken them to a really charismatic preacher - they know what the audience is reaching for, and they know that they're the link that can get them there. I remember the first time I was really able to put that feeling into words was when I was 19 and went to see the Butchies at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco. I remember how uplifted I felt through that whole concert. I still remember how it smelled, how Kaia looked from the front of the crowd, how the music sounded, how the energy pulsed through the crowd, through my body... I remember coming home and saying "that concert was a spiritual experience". I had a similar experience at the Erin McKeown concert - I think she might know how well she manipulates the energy of a crowd, and if she doesn't, she should. Concerts like those are transcendent - they are why I listen to music, why I go out, why live music is so important. If I can't afford it, I find a way to go.
I go to church for the community, but I go to concerts for the energy rush, the spirituality, the connection to god.
Listening to music at home is great. I'm a big fan of car karaoke - playing a CD at top volume and driving around singing along. It's better than therapy. And it's really good to have background music for your life. I like to fall asleep to music. I like to listen to music while I walk, when I'm on the bus, when I'm knitting. But the best thing about music for me is going to concerts. As a performer myself, I understand the draw of both performing and being in the audience. It's something a friend of mine called "the feeback loop," where the audience gives the performer their energy, who then feeds it back to them, who feeds it back to the performer, etc, etc, until you have what I experience as a spiritual experience.
In my Sociology 101 class back at Mills, we discussed a concept that really captivated me: the sociology of God. The basic premise, as I understood it, is that when a group of people gets together and focuses on one thing, they create a presence, an energy, that is greater than themselves. Whatever this thing is, was the beginnings of what people called "god". I don't mean to discount religion, or to explain it away; I just want to say that this is how I experience religion and spirituality.
You can have a spiritual experience at any concert, but every once in a while you meet a performer who can truly channel that energy. I'd liken them to a really charismatic preacher - they know what the audience is reaching for, and they know that they're the link that can get them there. I remember the first time I was really able to put that feeling into words was when I was 19 and went to see the Butchies at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco. I remember how uplifted I felt through that whole concert. I still remember how it smelled, how Kaia looked from the front of the crowd, how the music sounded, how the energy pulsed through the crowd, through my body... I remember coming home and saying "that concert was a spiritual experience". I had a similar experience at the Erin McKeown concert - I think she might know how well she manipulates the energy of a crowd, and if she doesn't, she should. Concerts like those are transcendent - they are why I listen to music, why I go out, why live music is so important. If I can't afford it, I find a way to go.
I go to church for the community, but I go to concerts for the energy rush, the spirituality, the connection to god.
Put your money where your heart is
This is a call to action.
Okay, everyone copies, burns, pirates music. A friend has an album you like, so you borrow it from her, burn it, and give it back. You find your favorite band's latest CD at the library, so you check it out, burn it, and return it. Money is tight. I understand that.
But wouldn't it be cool if we each picked one or two artists that we will support wholeheartedly, never burning, copying, pirating, or even buying used? Someone who we only buy from when we have the money, but we make sure they get every penny for every song, because they're amazing and they deserve it. Wouldn't that make you feel good about yourself? Wouldn't it make you more invested in their music, and make listening to it even more enjoyable?
I know it is for me. First off, I really enjoy having the original CD, with album art and lyrics. There's just something wonderful about having it in my hands, and I like to take a new CD and sit in my room and listen to the whole thing in one sitting with the lyrics sheet in my lap, letting the music soak into me and getting the full effect of the lyrics. So I almost never pirate CD's anyway. But I never used to have a problem with it. Really like her music, but can't afford a CD? Just rip it from the library! No problem. But recently...
Okay, so I went to this concert last November that really rocked my world. I ended up going to it kind of by accident - I signed up to be on the street team for one of my favorite musicians, Chris Pureka, and I got an email back about five minutes later saying that they really, really needed someone to hang posters for the Erin McKeown/Jill Sobule show two days later. Well hey, I thought, I spend an hour of my time doing this and I'll get brownie points with the Chris Pureka team. The two free tickets were an added bonus, but I wasn't feeling very well that week and didn't decide to go until the day of. Anyway, I did end up going, and boy am I glad that I did. I absolutely fell in love with Erin McKeown's music, lyrics, and stage presence (especially the stage presence! Come back to Seattle soon, Erin!). I almost never buy CD's at the show, but I knew I had to have a copy of Hundreds of Lions right then. Got it signed, took it home, and really haven't stopped listening to it for more than a day or two since then.
A day or two after I got home from the concert, I went online and purchased a copy of "We Will Become Like Birds," another Erin McKeown album, from her website. A couple weeks after that, I bought two t-shirts. This was the first time in years, and I mean years, that I had bought any CD new (except for Chris Pureka's new EP which I got signed at her last concert), much less a band t-shirt. It got me to thinking, but I hadn't formed that thought yet until Christmas came and I received a $20 Amazon.com gift certificate.
Now, $20 is a lot of money for me these days, and the temptation on a huge site like Amazon is to buy as cheaply as possible to make it stretch. Knowing that I wanted a couple more Erin McKeown albums, I thought, well, they're pretty cheap if you buy them used, I bet I could get two or three that way, instead of one and a half. But I looked at them, and I stopped. How could I love this artist so much and not support her 100%? If I knew that my biggest fans were doing everything they could to not spend money on my work, I'd feel like shit. So I made myself a promise.
For my favorite artists, I vow to always buy their merchandise new and pay full price for it. I know I cannot afford to do this for every musician I come across, so I will put my money where my heart is.
Since I promised this to myself, I feel better about listening to music. I feel freer about extolling the virtues of my favorite artists. And I feel really good knowing that when I take my newly-bought CD's to the next concert, I can get them signed without feeling even the slightest twinge of guilt.
Can you make this promise to yourself? In an age when most music is available (if illegally) for free, can you choose the moral high ground and pay for yours? I don't think you'll regret it. If you read this, comment and tell me where your heart is.
Okay, everyone copies, burns, pirates music. A friend has an album you like, so you borrow it from her, burn it, and give it back. You find your favorite band's latest CD at the library, so you check it out, burn it, and return it. Money is tight. I understand that.
But wouldn't it be cool if we each picked one or two artists that we will support wholeheartedly, never burning, copying, pirating, or even buying used? Someone who we only buy from when we have the money, but we make sure they get every penny for every song, because they're amazing and they deserve it. Wouldn't that make you feel good about yourself? Wouldn't it make you more invested in their music, and make listening to it even more enjoyable?
I know it is for me. First off, I really enjoy having the original CD, with album art and lyrics. There's just something wonderful about having it in my hands, and I like to take a new CD and sit in my room and listen to the whole thing in one sitting with the lyrics sheet in my lap, letting the music soak into me and getting the full effect of the lyrics. So I almost never pirate CD's anyway. But I never used to have a problem with it. Really like her music, but can't afford a CD? Just rip it from the library! No problem. But recently...
Okay, so I went to this concert last November that really rocked my world. I ended up going to it kind of by accident - I signed up to be on the street team for one of my favorite musicians, Chris Pureka, and I got an email back about five minutes later saying that they really, really needed someone to hang posters for the Erin McKeown/Jill Sobule show two days later. Well hey, I thought, I spend an hour of my time doing this and I'll get brownie points with the Chris Pureka team. The two free tickets were an added bonus, but I wasn't feeling very well that week and didn't decide to go until the day of. Anyway, I did end up going, and boy am I glad that I did. I absolutely fell in love with Erin McKeown's music, lyrics, and stage presence (especially the stage presence! Come back to Seattle soon, Erin!). I almost never buy CD's at the show, but I knew I had to have a copy of Hundreds of Lions right then. Got it signed, took it home, and really haven't stopped listening to it for more than a day or two since then.
A day or two after I got home from the concert, I went online and purchased a copy of "We Will Become Like Birds," another Erin McKeown album, from her website. A couple weeks after that, I bought two t-shirts. This was the first time in years, and I mean years, that I had bought any CD new (except for Chris Pureka's new EP which I got signed at her last concert), much less a band t-shirt. It got me to thinking, but I hadn't formed that thought yet until Christmas came and I received a $20 Amazon.com gift certificate.
Now, $20 is a lot of money for me these days, and the temptation on a huge site like Amazon is to buy as cheaply as possible to make it stretch. Knowing that I wanted a couple more Erin McKeown albums, I thought, well, they're pretty cheap if you buy them used, I bet I could get two or three that way, instead of one and a half. But I looked at them, and I stopped. How could I love this artist so much and not support her 100%? If I knew that my biggest fans were doing everything they could to not spend money on my work, I'd feel like shit. So I made myself a promise.
For my favorite artists, I vow to always buy their merchandise new and pay full price for it. I know I cannot afford to do this for every musician I come across, so I will put my money where my heart is.
Since I promised this to myself, I feel better about listening to music. I feel freer about extolling the virtues of my favorite artists. And I feel really good knowing that when I take my newly-bought CD's to the next concert, I can get them signed without feeling even the slightest twinge of guilt.
Can you make this promise to yourself? In an age when most music is available (if illegally) for free, can you choose the moral high ground and pay for yours? I don't think you'll regret it. If you read this, comment and tell me where your heart is.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Happy Existentialist
We make our own purpose in life. Every choice we make brings on more choices, unfolding endlessly before us. Fenced by circumstance, guided by our desires, we move forward as we will.
Some believe in God, some in justice, some in truth.
I believe in me, and my power in the world to do good or ill, to have my life touch the lives of the people around me. I try to be a good person, to step in where I can, to make things easier for others. I like to have fun. I like sex, and music, and soft fabrics, and good books. I like to feel. I like excess. I like to go back into myself at the end of the day, to recharge and reflect.
I like to give. I like the surprise in someone's eyes when I give them something, do something for them, that makes them feel special. It makes me feel whole. I like to give nice surprises. I like to bake cookies and share them with everyone I meet. I like to give pleasure to people because I like to indulge myself so much. I like to share. Joy shared is joy doubled.
I like to lose control, to be in control, to see where things go. I like to see how other people's choices connect with mine. I like coincidences.
I believe that life is inherently meaningless, that its only meaning is what we bring to it. And I like it just fine that way.
Some believe in God, some in justice, some in truth.
I believe in me, and my power in the world to do good or ill, to have my life touch the lives of the people around me. I try to be a good person, to step in where I can, to make things easier for others. I like to have fun. I like sex, and music, and soft fabrics, and good books. I like to feel. I like excess. I like to go back into myself at the end of the day, to recharge and reflect.
I like to give. I like the surprise in someone's eyes when I give them something, do something for them, that makes them feel special. It makes me feel whole. I like to give nice surprises. I like to bake cookies and share them with everyone I meet. I like to give pleasure to people because I like to indulge myself so much. I like to share. Joy shared is joy doubled.
I like to lose control, to be in control, to see where things go. I like to see how other people's choices connect with mine. I like coincidences.
I believe that life is inherently meaningless, that its only meaning is what we bring to it. And I like it just fine that way.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
On Hurting
I hurt today. When I don't hurt, it's an academic problem. I can talk about hurting, about not sleeping, about limping, about being frustrated. Then, I can go do something fun and forget about it. When I do hurt, I can't do anything else. I can't exercise, can't do stress relief activities, can't sleep, can't forget about it. I'm so tired. Some days, I'm bounding with energy, ideas, happiness. It's hard to be happy on days like this. It's hard to put one foot in front of the other, to think, to perform basic tasks. It's hard to imagine that there's nothing wrong with me, that I'm not dying, that I will ever not hurt. To wonder what I could have done to make this not happen.
I get angry. I get cranky. Everything is done to annoy me. I get depressed. I worry over things. I get stressed out emotionally. I want to hurt people, say mean things, push people out of my way. I have to work extra hard to be around people, to be nice, to be cheerful. I don't feel cheerful. I don't feel nice.
And I know that when I stop hurting, I'll stop thinking about it. I won't limp, or grind my teeth, or be exhausted. I won't worry about it. I'll be my regular, ray of sunshine self. I'll want to help people, do good things, hang out. But today, I can't think about anything else. I can't remember what feeling good is like.
I'm tired of talking about it. No, there's nothing I can do about it. Yes, whatever it is you think is causing it, I've been tested for that. Whatever treatment you're suggesting, I've probably tried it. Please stop suggesting things, asking things. When I tell you about it, it's because you looked concerned over my limp/strained expression so I gave you an explanation. My body is not yours to fix, and the more you try the more frustrated I get because I can't do anything about it.
I get angry. I get cranky. Everything is done to annoy me. I get depressed. I worry over things. I get stressed out emotionally. I want to hurt people, say mean things, push people out of my way. I have to work extra hard to be around people, to be nice, to be cheerful. I don't feel cheerful. I don't feel nice.
And I know that when I stop hurting, I'll stop thinking about it. I won't limp, or grind my teeth, or be exhausted. I won't worry about it. I'll be my regular, ray of sunshine self. I'll want to help people, do good things, hang out. But today, I can't think about anything else. I can't remember what feeling good is like.
I'm tired of talking about it. No, there's nothing I can do about it. Yes, whatever it is you think is causing it, I've been tested for that. Whatever treatment you're suggesting, I've probably tried it. Please stop suggesting things, asking things. When I tell you about it, it's because you looked concerned over my limp/strained expression so I gave you an explanation. My body is not yours to fix, and the more you try the more frustrated I get because I can't do anything about it.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Transitioning
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
re-forming to a will not quite my own
I'm losing both my future and my past
My feet are heavy, slowly gaining mass
though all the rest of me has come unsewn
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
My life will move and change and fall too fast
Until I tell myself - how you have grown!
I'm losing both my future and my past.
I will not change. It is too much to ask.
My spirit has been stripped to brittle bone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
The things I fear may never come to pass
The thrill, the fear, the hope of the unknown
I'm losing both my future and my past
I shiver and I stutter and I moan
And one bright flash, my life, my world is gone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
losing both my future and my past.
Making the decision to physically transition is one of the scariest things I have ever done in my life. It's also been one of the most freeing. I haven't started hormones, but I feel more comfortable in my body just knowing that I have the option. There will be several posts on this, but for now, I leave you with this poem.
re-forming to a will not quite my own
I'm losing both my future and my past
My feet are heavy, slowly gaining mass
though all the rest of me has come unsewn
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
My life will move and change and fall too fast
Until I tell myself - how you have grown!
I'm losing both my future and my past.
I will not change. It is too much to ask.
My spirit has been stripped to brittle bone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
The things I fear may never come to pass
The thrill, the fear, the hope of the unknown
I'm losing both my future and my past
I shiver and I stutter and I moan
And one bright flash, my life, my world is gone
I am a thousand broken shards of glass
losing both my future and my past.
Making the decision to physically transition is one of the scariest things I have ever done in my life. It's also been one of the most freeing. I haven't started hormones, but I feel more comfortable in my body just knowing that I have the option. There will be several posts on this, but for now, I leave you with this poem.
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