This transman is committed to making it better

By Mac Q. Simon

Growing up is weird. It’s especially strange when all the photos from your childhood reflect uncomfortable, ill-suited gender norms. I was at my parents’ house a few days ago with my partner, when my mom made a point of showing her all the photos of my brother and I growing up. When I was eight years old, smirking for the camera instead of smiling, I had no idea that I would grow up to be the person I am today. It’s painful, this growing up thing – and even more complicated when your body is not congruent with your mind.

When I was a teenager with gender issues simmering underneath the surface, I never imagined that I’d one day be able to live out a whole, centered, happy life. As a 23-year-old queer transman, I’m finally doing that.

But that authenticity comes with an intense and intimate self-examination. What kind of a man do I want to be? And ultimately, the answer is: one who acknowledges that his experience is that of a trans man. I come out as trans every day of my life, because the idea that greater society reads me as a straight, white man means that I have power and privilege that I never dreamed of acquiring. I transitioned to find congruence in my body, to feel like I could actually live again instead of suffocating in my own skin. The side effect of transitioning is that everything changes; every piece of your existence.

I’m still the same pensive child, in a grown-up body. But these days I spend more time thinking about trans-misogyny and my acquired male privilege than I did processing whatever troubled thoughts I had as a little girl with straw-blonde hair. With the male privilege I’ve acquired in the past two years of transition, I’ve become keenly aware of the ways in which sexism plays out in our society.

I experienced the first 21 years of my life hidden behind makeup, curves and a friendly straight-girl persona. Subtle interactions – like the way men treated me like a fragile, breakable object – were simply the norm. The fact that I graduated high school with a year of college credit already completed, or that I was a talented musician, were never very important. Instead, the dominant facet of my identity was “WOMAN,” which instantly negated the value, individuality and intelligence that so define me.

How does that change now that the world sees “MAN” when they look at me? I get instant respect – I don’t have to prove myself first. I’m seen as strong, tough, in charge – simply because I may (or may not?) have a penis. I’m expected to be assertive and know what I’m doing at every moment. Still, most days, the resounding thought in my head is “What’s wrong with this picture?”

My mother taught me well, and I think that she likes to show off those childhood photos as proof that she raised me with her feminist values. It’s different to live them out now, as a person who is perceived as male as I move through the world. It becomes especially important for me to uphold these values when I see the list of names for the annual Transgender Day of Remembrance; 20 trans people who have been murdered in the past year. The vast majority of names on this list are male-to-female people. This speaks volumes to the fact that while transmen are by no means exempt from violence, the greatest portion of it can be attributed not only to transphobia but specifically to trans-misogyny. Trans-misogyny is a term that was coined by author Julia Serrano in her book Whipping Girl, to describe sexism that specifically targets those on the trans female/trans feminine spectrum.

Until our LGBT and queer communities and the world at large acknowledge the violence and hatred that trans people – and especially trans women – face on a daily basis, I am committed to bringing awareness to the problem by calling out sexism, transphobia and trans-misogyny when I see it. This transman is committed to making it better for his fellow trans folk by being out, honest and courageous in the truth he speaks and writes. I encourage everyone reading to examine your own thoughts about gender conformity and to eliminate the language and fear that constricts each of us.

Mac Q. Simon is the Northern Colorado Field Organizer at One Colorado, a statewide LGBT advocacy organization.