To follow up from my post about being stealth I wanted to talk about a very unexpected change in people’s reactions to me being trans.
To recap a little, I feared and almost expected rejection from others, I feared being treated and seen differently, I expected ridicule even if it was not done openly. I lived in a small town at the time and would go through cycles of finding a friendship group and after a while there would be gossip and rumours and a tension in the atmosphere; I knew they had heard something and it made me uncomfortable; I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to explain myself, I didn’t want being trans to be the forefront of who I was, I didn’t want to deal with people’s ignorance or intrusive questions, I didn’t want to have to explain it all yet again to people who just don’t understand, I didn’t want the attention, I didn’t want to deal with any of it. I just wanted to be seen as me and not through the lens of misconceptions and prejudices. Either I’d be outed, or I’d distance myself from that group before I was confronted or it become too uncomfortable for me. I felt stuck between being the novelty trans person or living stealth with the inevitable prospect of having my privacy snatched from me at any given moment. Not only did I hate being outed, but I hated that I had no control over the means that it was done, the language used, the explanation given.
The attitudes of those around me at this time were not pleasant. I’d start to pick up on little comments and in-jokes that were told, not to me directly, but in my presence; a thinly-veiled nod to the fact they knew I was trans. There was a sneering hostility to it, a sense that they felt they had some sort of power over me. There were always people around any given corner who knew me from years gone by that were all too eager to either call me out directly in front of people or who felt it their duty to secretly inform those who knew me that I, fully male-appearing, sounding and bearded by this point, was “really a girl, I knew her at school and her real name is x!”.
People rarely ever confronted or explicitly asked me about it but preferred to try and out me by force. There were two occasions I was held down by people as another rummaged through my pockets for my ID to confirm or deny their suspicions. There were times when friends would ask a question of the whole group, a question that was manufactured for me, that was unnaturally misplaced in the usual theme of conversation, with the intention of backing me into a corner, of observing my reaction, to see if I’d ‘confess’ or give anything away. There were times people grabbed my junk, times people touched my chest. There was an incident where someone used the handle of a walking-stick to hook between my legs, pull me to the ground and I saw as they watched to see if my reaction was proportional to having my testicles crushed. There were camping trips where I had to go home because every time I had to pee, someone would also have to pee and insist on following me; every time.
Of course, there were the rare more respectful people who would catch me alone and explain they’d heard something about me and ask if it was true. At which point I was able to say that something along the lines of yes, but I don’t like to talk about it and I’d appreciate if you could respect my privacy. Of course, they’d still tell others of their findings and the cycle of gossip and secret conversations would continue.
It felt like a dirty secret, it felt like people wanted to catch me out. It was like a game to them and it was a big deal when they had finally managed to get the confirmation they were seeking and they had share this exciting information and compare notes with others. My humanity was completely lost in their quest to ‘expose’ me.
Years later and in a new, similarly sized town, I am no longer strictly stealth. Me being trans doesn’t really come up and is rarely relevant to mention, but I won’t go to any effort to hide it. Those close to me know, others may or may not, I don’t care. I have no issue speaking of my experiences where I see fit to do so. I might repost a trans related news story on my Facebook wall or I might casually mention experiences in a conversation that only a trans person would experience. Whether that leads people to think I’m trans or just an ally, whether they ask, whether they don’t ask, I don’t care. If they want to know, I’ll tell them, it’s not a big deal.
The most striking thing I have noticed since I have stopped caring and stopped treating it like a big deal (and I don’t doubt that a change in times has had some part to play in this) is that no one else sees it as a big deal either. I set the tone. I control how I am outed, the language that is used and the way the message is delivered. When me being trans is not prefaced as a shameful secret but rather nonchalantly and casually disclosed mid conversation the reaction has always been similarly nonchalant. People rarely have invasive follow up questions and are far more respectful. The majority of reactions are generally along the lines of “oh ok, cool" and carrying on with the previous conversation or a shocked “wait, what, you’re trans!?” for which my reply is a casual “oh yeah, didn’t you know?”. The confusion of thinking I’m planning to transition to female is a common and funny one that I have to clarify. The way I disclose leaves little room for opinion or judgement, it is just a fact about me. It’s just not a big deal and it is no longer treated as such by anybody else.
Strangely, as a side note, I’ve also found men tend to share their insecurities with me more. From things about their appearances (are my ears too big, is my nose weird etc) to insecurities about their dicks; from embarrassing cysts on their penises to micropenises and more. Since having surgery on my own penis I’ve suddenly become the person to disclose all your penis worries to which was certainly unexpected.
I have been doing my makeup every single day as part of my bimbo training. Comment below and tell me what else I should be doing. 😊
New tumblr. Advice and therapy for anyone who needs from someone who gets it. https://olliegivestherapy.tumblr.com/
Official photos coming this weekend 🌸
Sometimes you gotta message sure your girl is well looked after
this is literally my idealized version of me, i swear i don’t know what all the lashes filter did but i’m glad i used that lipstick, it tastes oddly sweet.
again, i’d probably even kill for the chance at light freckles in my face. also love this once since it like some other filters doesn’t warp your face, also the lashes ones since they add make up, not warp either.
this one is OLD compared to the others this was like 2016, mind i remind how much you change from 16 y/o to nearly 21 but damm i’m not even mad, i mean, look i could pull hella cute pics and at 21 i ain’t staying behind on good looks, HRT is only going to take me higher on the self esteem department so i’ll do anything to get to my personal, fisical and spiritual happiness.
this one i took on my notebook some time ago 2019, enjoy laptop crappy webcam Diana in all her tired but self loving glory.
and to finish this one i forgot from the other post bc they both make perfect reactions (that i turned into stickers for chatting)
If you’re anything like me, then you don’t like sitting down and talking about your problems to other people before you’ve had a chance to sift through them yourself and figure out what exactly is upsetting you. When you aren’t sure which direction the conversation is headed (especially if the conversation is driven by your emotions, thoughts, and feelings) you sometimes feel like you’re complaining or burdening people…however untrue that is!
Sometimes, having personal space actually is helpful; sometimes having me-time or solitude begets productive contemplation. Other times, you just end up stewing, and it turns out you probably did just need to talk it out all along.
Please please please please check out Woebot.
Woebot is an app, a sweet, lil’ robot that offers sympathy, advice, and helpful coping tools for people who may have depression or anxiety, feel lonely, or who are struggling in general right now. Woebot is wonderful because he/she/they are a robot who you can talk to about your problems and receive advice or comfort any time during the day or night. Here’s what I love about “Woe”:
I’ve been using Woebot for a week now and I’m thoroughly impressed. Highly, highly recommend. Regardless of how difficult my day to day is, I at least feel better knowing I checked in on my own mental health every day, and I encourage everyone to do the same!
I’ll sit there like “is it really worth it to come out as trans? I’m not THAT dysphoric and it’s just a cause of stress for my parents…” before having my nightly breakdown over my arm brushing my chest and folding like a chair at the idea of being called “beautiful boy” 😔😔
i sometimes wear a bra to give me some shape and help me feel better even if small.
here a lashes filter i liked and thought “i could do that for real” but also changes eye color to make sure i look just as good with that instead of brown
did i mention it also has freckles with i swear to god i’d tattoo on my face if necesary cuz damm gurl i look finer than my wildest dreams (also a decent bust to match with my body) and with a pijama shirt i stole from my sister (dont worry it’s fine sis).
Please help a trans person in an abusive situation out and consider reblogging or donating to their gofundme!!! Their actual blog is @stephenthechaotic if you’d like to actually speak to them!!! Their parents have had a history of being abusive and recently they are trying to emancipate and leave but lack the funds to do so. I’m not trying to sound guilt trippy and nothing bad will happen to you if you just keep scrolling but ANY AND ALL HELP IS DEEPLY APPRECIATED
I’m a boy from the kind of books that I read when I was younger
All I have ever wanted is to feel safe and appreciated
all I have ever had in my life is struggles
to find a reason to continue
to feel safe being me
I just want to exist and feel & be respected as a person with valid feelings, problems and opinions
I don’t want all of the shit from my past to poison my head but it’s hard to let go when it all very much affected me and I’m still processing it, on my own until I’m able to find a therapist.
My mom and other adults would always tell me that I was arrogant, premature and full of myself when I actually was a self loathing, closeted trans male with undiagnosed adhd & autism. I am so used and tired of getting misunderstood all of the time and it affecting me in many different ways. I’m tired of living with the consequences of uneducated / ingorant / toxic parenting.
my gender identity and sexuality are both malewife. no i will not elaborate.
Reasons to buy clothes from the men’s section: