Not Getting Away With Anything

Hello! My name is Calla, I use she/they pronouns, and I live in Los Angeles, California. I am the writer and creator of Coming of Queer. My aim with this blog series is to promote the depoliticization of queer folks like myself. I doubt very much that this blog will ever make it anywhere, but I know that it will make me feel better on a personal level. I hope you stick around and either demystify trans folks or find a soothing place to land for yourself here in these stories.

It's a bit strange to feel as though I am interviewing myself for this first one but I think that may just be the nature of doing anything for the first time. That was certainly the case the first time I put on a skirt and channeled every bit of femme boy that I could. Let's play a little game. Try to remember the first time you saw a man in traditionally female clothing. How did it honestly make you feel? Perhaps it made you feel uneasy or uncomfortable, like they were doing something they weren't supposed to. Maybe you didn't know what to think but wanted to be a nice non-judgemental person anyways. Hats off to you if that was your first instinct. Mine was a lot less pleasant. This whole thing has been so confusing for me too.

How could you tell that you were trans?

I loved seeing the dresses Harry Styles wore on Vogue's cover in 2020 but I felt slightly less glamorous in my turquoise tennis skirt and short sleeve in my little apartment... I honestly felt really awkward and more or less gave myself the ick. I cut my hair short again after 9 months of trying to grow it out. I didn't feel brave enough to be seen as ugly, for that's how I saw myself in the mirror. Who could possibly love me if I came out as trans and bisexual? The story that people just have an inherent knowledge that they are trans is not one that I relate to. I speak only for myself when I say that the concept of being 'truly trans' has been a social movement selling point for the movement but not something I've encountered within my experiences. There is a lot of horse shit around on all sides (not that it excuses harassment.) I hope you'll keep reading anyway. The truth about queer people and our beliefs is that we're all really different. How the hell would I know if I was really born this way? Most people experience self doubt when they stand on the precipice of a major life decision- I was no exception. Perhaps science will someday be able to prove on a biological level that someone has a true gender or sexuality. (Note: I do separate gender and sex but this isn't about chromosomes or body parts for me) I don't really believe that science has arrived on a perfect understanding of it yet. I think it's rather reductive to blame my transness on something I was powerless over on a biological level.

I do share a lot in common with other trans women. I dressed in girls clothing as a kid and got made fun of for being too feminine as well. I just don't think that's what makes me trans though. I still believe that being trans is natural. I just believe it to be true in a social way. The answer to hard questions isn't usually simple, even if we may wish otherwise. Gender to me is social, relational, sometimes performative, but not a biological reality. It gets complicated because biological reality does influence the scripts society says it's okay for you to follow. It is a part of who may find you attractive for one thing. You are certainly able to disagree for yourself, especially if biological sex was good enough for you. However, rather than being ideologically defensive, this way of thinking has been much more sustainable for me.

The clear cut answer is no, I cannot pinpoint any specific experience or feeling that tells me without a doubt that I am trans. I am who I am and I do not owe anyone an apology for it. I used to joke about wanting a letter from God letting me know for sure what my gender was. Now I know that I would've robbed myself of painful but necessary personal growth if God had given me the letter. I have not found myself, I have made friends with the journey. There is a difference.

Transition has become an unexpected hidden resource

As stigmatized as I've become to the public eye, my social life is better than it's been in years. This, I believe, can be attributed to a few things:

1) Transition has opened my eyes to what women have been putting up with. I envied women growing up for getting to put effort into being beautiful, expressive, and gentle. They got to do and be what I wanted for myself. Envy is just envy, even if it's gender envy. I am referring not to women's 'inherent nature' but to the social script they're encouraged toward and the values that society places on them. I didn't stop to consider how constrictive that might've been when I was a kid. I felt I was rather pretty growing up but I also felt like I needed to hide it. So, although this might be obvious, I feel that I have drawn closer to women and have stopped projecting my issues.

2) The invitation to authentically explore what exactly I wanted to embody. This was my chance to stop saying no to myself and start really exploring. Cutting a line between who I wanted to be and presenting to control other peoples perceptions was hard. At first, I bought clothes and did voice training because of what would make me seem feminine. It was fun for a while but it began to really bother me. No matter how pretty I was, I was doing it to convince people I had made the right choice. I wore a lot of dresses and put on makeup every day in the beginning. People would tell me I was doing a great job, that they couldn't tell I was trans, but I was emotionally exhausted. Sure, I wanted to be pretty and I wanted to pass, but I wanted more than anything to just feel like myself. I felt a bit like an imposter, which is one of the worst feelings for someone like me. So, I stopped presenting to control what other people thought of me. I started wearing makeup only once or twice a week and putting on outfits that were more comfortable and felt more authentic. The outfits had been wearing me, now, it was the other way around.

3) Giving my family and friends a chance to know a more honest adult human being. I secretly began transitioning medically a bit after my 22nd birthday. My family was conservative and very Christian, so I thought that this automatically meant I would be rejected by my family. I cannot say exactly when I began wearing a mask around my family, but I do know it felt really unpleasant. I did not come out to my family in a mature and grounded way. I moved home from mine and my ex-partner's apartment in tears in the middle of the night. Coming out was horrible for everyone involved. My family felt hurt that I hadn't said anything, and I felt hurt by the intense questioning. We said some unpleasant things to each other that day. Almost a year and a half later, I was finally able to apologize for my dramatic and confusing coming out. It felt sobering and also incredible. I don't blame myself for doing it poorly, it was one of the hardest things I've had to do. I also feel compassion now for the way my parents had felt the rug getting pulled out from under them. They've apologized for their responses to my coming out as well. My mom wrote a poem for me about six months ago about how much she loved and cherished me for who I am, whether that be her son, daughter, neither, or both. We both cried when she gave it to me. Nowadays, being myself around my family is so much easier.

There is so much more to be said about my life than just being trans. My life is still hard and I sometimes really struggle with my anxiety and fear, but overall, life and I are on better terms than ever before. I feel more available to my friends and family and am learning how I want to live my life. Somedays I do feel a little fragile and defensive about who I am, but most days I know that I am just a regular human being with very normal struggles and goals. I'm learning how to make mistakes without losing my footing. Sometimes I make mistakes and need to apologize for them. What I have now is a real chance to be happy and loved, as myself. If you're feeling confused about your gender, my advice is to talk about it with people you feel comfortable with in real life. There's no need to feel ashamed. I promise. These things don't get figured out overnight. The best thing one can do when shit gets confusing and scary is to take comfort in those who will love us anyway. Thanks for reading lovelies. <3