Through coming out to many people, I’ve gotten one common theme from friends who really mean well, “Is this maybe just a body image issue? Maybe you just want to be really thin/buff/whatever. Maybe if you just work out a lot you’ll feel better.”
My gut reaction is to think, “You have no idea what it’s like to be trans*, and I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
That would be fair of me to say, but I don’t. They literally just don’t know any better, and usually have the best intentions, so I smile, nod, act like they’re on to something or that I haven’t heard that before, and politely tell them that dysphoria is not the same thing as body dysmorphia.
I had one conversation with a friend that was very eyeopening.
To protect the people mentioned in this post, I’ve taken the liberty of creating screen names a la AIM nicknames circa 1993 with the help of this article. They’ll be Taco.Bumpkin485, and I’ll be Mad.A.Game64.
<conversation>
Mad.A.Game64: So by the way, I wanted to tell you something important that doesn’t affect work, but I’m trans*.
Taco.Bumpkin485: You’re what?
Mad.A.Game64: (sweating bullets and tasting soup) Trans*?
Taco.Bumpkin485 I’ve heard of it but I don’t know what it is.
Mad.A.Game64: …transgender?
Taco.Bumpkin485: …oh! Ok cool. Wait, so does that mean you want bigger boobs?
Mad.A.Game64: (stirring a pot of borscht) …huh?
Taco.Bumpkin485: Or that you want to be more feminine?
Mad.A.Game64: No not exactly. For me it means I want the opposite. No boobs and hormones. I want a more masculine body, and want to go by a different name and male pronouns.
Taco.Bumpkin485: Oh really? But you have a great body! Lots of people would kill for your body.
Mad.A.Game64: It’s not really about that.
Taco.Bumpkin485: Have you tried working out like mad? I mean, I’m sure you’ve thought about this a lot and I don’t know anything, but I know this one girl who’s a swimmer, and she has a way buffer body than I do even. Maybe if you worked out like her you’d feel better?
Mad.A.Game64: Hm, well it might help a little bit, but the parts of my body that I’m most unhappy with aren’t things that can be changed by working out.
Taco.Bumpkin485: Like what?
Mad.A.Game64: Like the shape of my jawline, wanting to grow facial hair, my voice, and of my chest.
</conversation>
One thing I want to point out is that the logic that buff women are the same as men is very flawed, and perpetuates unhelpful stereotypes about “ideal” male and female bodies. That all said, Taco.Bumpkin485 brings up an interesting point. Although dysphoria and body issues are definitely not the same thing, I know for myself working out helps me relieve some of my dysphoria. Part of this is simply because the endorphins make me happy. Part of this is because working out certain parts of my body helps me seem more masculine to people, or at least I can dream. I still have a female body, but the illusion helps others see me as male, and thus makes me feel better.
For some people, this could be the solution that they need to feel comfortable in their gender, whatever that might be. For me, it’s not.
My dysphoria will not go away simply by “loving my body for what it is,” which is something I’ve also heard from a few people. Believe me, I’ve tried very hard, but it’s like telling a fish to be comfortable eating bananas and climbing trees. For some people, this is the only way they can sympathize with my gender dysphoria. Let me say now though: I’m not asking for you to completely understand. I’m asking for support, love, and compassion.
I talked to a friend once, and we were talking about me deciding on top surgery. He asked me point blank, “If you’re alone in your room, do you still have dysphoria about your breasts?” I had never thought about it, but concluded that yes, I do. Another friend asked it in a different way, “If you were on a desert island with the choice of top surgery and T, would you do them?” The answer was still yes.
This was the most definitive proof I needed.
I remember my therapist asked me much the same question, and it always stuck out as probably the most important question he ever asked me. I was worried that I was “just a crossdresser,” and wasn’t really transgender. So he asked me, “How do you feel about yourself when you’re naked? When you look in the mirror, what do you feel?”
After thinking about it for a solid minute, I answered, “Disappointment. I’m not angry, or sick to my stomach. I don’t get such overwhelming depression that I can’t look at myself like some transgender people I’ve spoken to… I’m just disappointed. I see my straight hips, my wide shoulders, my flat chest, my abundant body hair, my beard shadow, and I just sigh and go ‘…. oh.’ ”
Hearing myself quantify it like that was all the answer I needed.
Your conversation helped. Knowing you’re a real person with real desires. It makes sense to do what you want to, now.
There are so many things I’ve wanted and I’ve let society’s “Normal” standands about my gender dictate to me what is right and wrong. Just because this is a body/gender transformation doesn’t make it any less important for you to do what you want.
Changing your name is bold, brave. Bravo you’re not waiting fifty years to be your Trans*self. The world has no idea what you have in store for them. Being who you are. You’re an ispiration!
Thanks so much!
That absolutely makes sense. It’s funny how such a simple question can really make a difference when figuring yourself out. It’s a question with a pretty definite answer, even if you’re not very self-aware.
I can also really understand the feeling of disappointment. It’s interesting you say this, because it really calls to how all trans* people have different feelings about their body, not just this self-hatred that is most common.