My parents named me (AMAB) Stacey. I was teased, harassed and bullied for that before I even knew what it meant to be a boy or a girl. Despite the abuse, I could never accept going by my very masculine middle name, somehow, in ways I didn't understand and couldn't explain, that was worse. So I stuck by my 'girls' name and just took the brunt of the bullying.
Now it feels like I finally earned my name, my identity. Not that anyone should have to do that. (and plus side: it made changing my documents way easier! I hated my middle name so much, I only used it when I absolutely had to.)
I definitely felt that transition down in caste from (barely passing) as a "straight white man" or at least a "gay white man" (because real talk I was always very femme in a way that everyone thought meant I was gay, including the kids who routinely beat me up on the playground) to "white trans lesbian". Two of my closest friends, both white, cis queer female academics, who I had been friends with for 10 and 20 years respectively, both started treating me like shit and I had to realize "oh, this is what they look like from below, rather than above in the hierarchy that exists in their heads". It broke my heart to cut ties with them, but it turned out they had always been shitty, and I'd just not seen them from the right perspective to notice it before.
One of the greatest aids for self-healing is community. If you're in a large city, you can probably find a trans community that provides mutual support. Even in a smaller city, another great support network is the local kink community. Even if you're not especially kinky yourself, that community tends to be very accepting of people who are different in various ways. Supporting other people who are different in their own way can help give you a new perspective on your own differences.
Thank you for naming why it's so hard to heal from gender dysphoria and cptsd. As a nonbinary trans person struggling with some of these things currently I really appreciate understanding the bigger picture and feeling I'm not alone.
So many parts of this essay hit in a tender spot. We were all so similar in many of those growing up experiences. And now as the parent, I watch my sons navigating the world (one trans, one cis), and I'm both terrified and full of hope for what it will be like for them.
Nov 7, 2023·edited Nov 7, 2023Liked by Doc Impossible
I was busy with medical things yesterday, and stressed over them, so I knew better than to try to read this issue then. Everything you describe fits very well with what little I remember of my childhood. My cPTSD is sufficient that I only have very limited memories of what actually happened. But it wasn't just the other children. My father was one of the worst abusers in my life.
As for intersectionality: I'm a transgender, lesbian, autistic woman with multiple chronic illnesses. Yes I'm white, and I do get some benefit from that fact. I chose to be open about who I am, since the day I recognized each of those things about myself. Yes, it's hard to fly in the face of society. But it's valuable work, I believe, as it shows others that it's possible to thrive regardless.
Another excellent piece. Thank you for doing the hard work of examining these things, and putting into words the reality we share.
My parents named me (AMAB) Stacey. I was teased, harassed and bullied for that before I even knew what it meant to be a boy or a girl. Despite the abuse, I could never accept going by my very masculine middle name, somehow, in ways I didn't understand and couldn't explain, that was worse. So I stuck by my 'girls' name and just took the brunt of the bullying.
Now it feels like I finally earned my name, my identity. Not that anyone should have to do that. (and plus side: it made changing my documents way easier! I hated my middle name so much, I only used it when I absolutely had to.)
I definitely felt that transition down in caste from (barely passing) as a "straight white man" or at least a "gay white man" (because real talk I was always very femme in a way that everyone thought meant I was gay, including the kids who routinely beat me up on the playground) to "white trans lesbian". Two of my closest friends, both white, cis queer female academics, who I had been friends with for 10 and 20 years respectively, both started treating me like shit and I had to realize "oh, this is what they look like from below, rather than above in the hierarchy that exists in their heads". It broke my heart to cut ties with them, but it turned out they had always been shitty, and I'd just not seen them from the right perspective to notice it before.
One of the greatest aids for self-healing is community. If you're in a large city, you can probably find a trans community that provides mutual support. Even in a smaller city, another great support network is the local kink community. Even if you're not especially kinky yourself, that community tends to be very accepting of people who are different in various ways. Supporting other people who are different in their own way can help give you a new perspective on your own differences.
I adore the analogy of Kintsugi 🏳️⚧️💕
Making something even more beautiful from the broken bits of the old person
You can even see that it’s been repaired, but somehow it doesn’t matter…. 😍🫂
Thank you for naming why it's so hard to heal from gender dysphoria and cptsd. As a nonbinary trans person struggling with some of these things currently I really appreciate understanding the bigger picture and feeling I'm not alone.
So many parts of this essay hit in a tender spot. We were all so similar in many of those growing up experiences. And now as the parent, I watch my sons navigating the world (one trans, one cis), and I'm both terrified and full of hope for what it will be like for them.
I was busy with medical things yesterday, and stressed over them, so I knew better than to try to read this issue then. Everything you describe fits very well with what little I remember of my childhood. My cPTSD is sufficient that I only have very limited memories of what actually happened. But it wasn't just the other children. My father was one of the worst abusers in my life.
As for intersectionality: I'm a transgender, lesbian, autistic woman with multiple chronic illnesses. Yes I'm white, and I do get some benefit from that fact. I chose to be open about who I am, since the day I recognized each of those things about myself. Yes, it's hard to fly in the face of society. But it's valuable work, I believe, as it shows others that it's possible to thrive regardless.
Another excellent piece. Thank you for doing the hard work of examining these things, and putting into words the reality we share.