Despite all evidence to the contrary, and in full recognition of how incompatible this seems with my extremely deep set misanthropy, somehow I continue to believe that most people want to be good and kind. That’s the only explanation, really. I’m still convinced that I don’t “pass”. I’m convinced that everyone who doesn’t call me out is simply being nice to me. The lady at my son’s school who did a quadruple take on my license and told me she needed *my* ID could not possibly have been that taken aback and confused, right?
I’m working really hard to rationalize to myself how most people MUST know I’m trans on sight and yet when I had aforementioned son out to dinner, and he loudly called me “Dad” twice, everyone around us became visibly uncomfortable or curious. It had to have been the lighting, right? It must have been helping me “fool” people.
Old Southern men in the grocery store want to help me with things- I guess when they notice I’m walking with a cane? But old Southern men are nice and gentile and have been brought up to be mannerly, right? Maybe they have bad eyesight, I tell myself.
There’s the whole added complication of the idea that making a big deal out of “passing” is problematic as it endorses cis-het norms of beauty and womanhood. But, for now, I’m not gonna fight that battle. I know how I see myself when I close my eyes, and quite honestly, I’m entitled to my own vision of myself rocking the aesthetic of my choice just as much as someone who wants to blaze their own trail. I’ll be aspire to be Betty Page meets June Cleaver and you do you, honey. There’s room for both, but that’s a whole other blog post.
So, anyway, I seem to be out there passing far more often than I realize or am willing to accept. I can’t wrap my brain around it- I know I’ve changed but I still see so much of what I’ve always seen in the mirror. In a way that’s good- my son’s biggest worry when I came out was how different I’d look. His Mom pointed out that I’ve never been very traditionally masculine, even with a beard, and that the changes would be gradual, etc etc. I guess as long as I still see that dude I used to think I was in the mirror to an extent, he does as well, and I’m willing to be uncomfortable in all other situations if it helps him ease into his role in my new life.