I’m not your average kind of woman.
I bet some of you knew that already, eh? What gave it away? ... Perhaps my obvious accessory choice for this morning? :) How do you like my tie?
Seriously though, most of the time I don’t even think of myself as being a woman. I don’t feel that I fit the stereotype, or even the simple expectations and ideas that we all carry around in our heads about what a woman is. As an adolescent, I absolutely hated it when I was expected to wear a dress …And throughout my life I’ve always had extreme discomfort buying women’s undergarments of any kind. …To this day, I’ve yet to buy my first swim suit; after multiple humiliating and failed attempts at trying to fit my unique body shape once more into something designed for a shapely female… I try to avoid such experiences at all costs.
Shopping of any kind has, and can be, uncomfortable for me. I use to get angry at shop clerks who called me sir or directed me to the mens room when I asked for the bathroom key. What angered me was that their idea about what a woman was, was so narrow that it didn’t include me.
Now, I’m completely thrown for a loop when someone calls me Ma’am, or groups me in with rest of the ‘ladies’ in the room. … In my past I’ve been known to mask my discomfort on that point with a quip like; “I’m no lady; ladies don’t spit!” Now that may be a bit crude, but for me it somehow reaffirmed the masculine side of me that I felt was being ignored. Luckily though, I’ve never had to develop a swagger. ...Besides, can you see me trying to do that now? With this cane? It just wouldn’t work.
So at this point, I bet some of you are now thinking to yourselves, well, maybe we should be calling Dar a he.
But that wouldn’t do either, you see, because even though I’ve always identified with the knight in shining armour and not in the least with the damsel he was rescuing, and even though I now buy all of my clothing, including my underwear in the mens department, I don’t think of myself as a man either, nor do I want to be known as one.
All my life, with society's pressure to conform in one way or another, it’s been something of a pendulum like struggle for me to carve out my own place in the gender spectrum. When I came out in the early eighties, transgender wasn’t an option, or at least not one that I saw. Sure, we had gay and lesbian, and we had bi-sexual - which, at that time was thought of as being indecisive.
…Then there was Transsexual - which was, and still is a more clinical term referring to those who feel an unresolvable conflict between the sex they were assigned at birth and their gender identity, (a transsexual may call themselves transgender, but not all transgenders are transsexual,) and then there was transvestite, a now obsolete term referring to those who usually have no problem accepting their gender assignment, but enjoy dressing as the opposite sex - think Tim Curry in the Rocky Horror Picture show.
Butch lesbian was the best I could come up with, even though many of the feminist lesbians at the time believed that those who called themselves butch or fem were buying into the patriarchal system by mimicking heterosexual relationships. In hindsight, let's not be too hard on our sisters; they too were working to forge an identity separate from a system that dictated how they should be, and in many ways they were the ground breakers when it comes to an individual’s right to be themselves.
As a society we simply had a lot to learn.
Recently, I’ve started to openly call myself Transgender, Finally claiming the name because I’ve come to accept that I can no longer fit into any of the predetermined gender and sexual identity boxes offered.
Gender is not binary, but the pronouns we use are. They designate a person’s sex, male or female, instead of having any relationship to where on the gender spectrum an individual may feel comfortable, except for at the two opposite ends, male and female.
If there was something in-between ‘he’ and ‘she’, that is what I would choose, but since it doesn’t exist, I somewhat begrudgingly accept the use of the female pronouns. They are simply what I am use to.
Please note, however, that this is my own choice, and it does not reflect the personal choices or preferences of others who use the name Transgender or Trans to describe who they are. A good rule of thumb would be if you know someone who identifies as trans, ask them what pronoun they prefer. I am certain that they will be grateful for your consideration.
For me though, it’s always been something in-between. Like Scott’s poetry spoke about, - I too am neither blue, nor pink, but a beautiful shade of magenta.
What I find interesting about my own journey, is that it took a village for me to recognize and accept my own gender identity. About five years ago, when I joined this community, I stopped struggling to be more this or more that, and I decided to simply let myself be who I am. There’s something to be said about radical acceptance, isn’t there? I mean, I really took to the idea that I am acceptable, loveable, and valuable, without having to be more feminine, more masculine, more lesbian, more feminist, more butch, more this, or more that. All I have to be is just more me.
Like so many others, I really needed to hear that message. We do such terrible things to each other and to ourselves with our preconceived expectation, and the thing is, when we don’t grant ourselves or each other the freedom to be who we truly are, when we have to spend so much of our time defending our right to be who we might be, we don’t actually get much opportunity to explore the potential of our true loving natures.
One of our Unitarian Universalist messages is that we each carry a spark of the divine in us, that all we have to do is be our true selves and then that light and love inside of us will shine though. … So while I was looking inward for that light and love inside of me, I stopped paying attention to the image I portrayed to the world, and all those bits about my gender identity simply fell into place along with everything else.
So many things about me that others might reject me for, my gender identity, my sexuality, how my past has shaped who I am and how I relate to people because of it… all the things that could otherwise derail a connection, became irrelevant, or I should say, as equally irrelevant, and equally as meaningful as everyone else’s personal bits that make them who they are. For the first time in my life I felt that I belonged, despite, AND, because of my differences. Like so many before me I have found my place in this beloved community and I feel like I am finally coming into my own.
But not everyone has a community like ours. Not everyone is accepted and loved because of their differences, far from it.
For many, this world can be a cold and cruel place if you don’t tow the status quo line, and especially so if you are young and trans.
According to the Trevor project, a North American organization working toward the empowerment of LGBT youth, suicide is the second leading cause of death among young people ages 10 to 24. ... LGB youth are 4 times more likely to attempt suicide than their straight peers. And nearly half of young trans people have seriously thought about taking their own lives, with one quarter report having made a suicide attempt. …And according to the Canadian Mental Health Association, these suicide attempts are not because of internal conflict, but a reaction to how these youth are being treated by their peers, and society at large.
Each episode of LGBT victimization, such as physical or verbal harassment or abuse, increases the likelihood of self-harming behaviour by 2.5 times on average.
Queer youth are not the only ones who suffer from social stigmatization and bullying, but I find it particularly sad to think that these young people, who otherwise could be full of glorious hope and expectation about their future lives, are feeling so desperate, so alone and ridiculed, that they believe the only way to end their suffering is to end their life.
We all need to feel loved and accepted. Belonging is a basic human need. Without that grounding we are desperately handicapped in our ability to become our true authentic selves and to learn to love who we are, ...let alone come to understand the healing and connection we can find when we extend our loving beyond ourselves and our close circle of friends and family.
Yes, things have been changing, especially here in North America. When it comes to LGBTQ people being accepted into the main stream we may think we have arrived. Marriage between same sex partners is legal, both in Canada and now in the US… and our church has been a welcoming congregation for years.
Our Ministers, Reverend Melora and Reverend Shana Lynngood are a married couple with a family,… Heck, you’re listening to a lay service given by a queer who just spoke about her underwear preferences. ...We’ve come a long way.
But there are still so many people out there in this world who need to hear that they are beautiful and acceptable just the way they are. As long as there are still people who need to hear that message, we still need to provide it.
That’s why we still have Pride.
Every year in cities around the world, lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgender, gender-queer, inter-sexed, and straight folks, march together, for each other, and for those who still aren’t able to. …We come together as a chosen family, in celebration of our diversity, of our acceptance of one another, telling the world that we are proud of who we are and who we love, and that we love each other, despite, and because of our differences.
As long as there is hate in this world, we need to counter it with a message of love. For many it still can make the difference of life or death.
Let us make sure that our message can be heard loud and clear.