On being a monster

I got into an argument a while back with a guy that was convinced that no one could be both gay and trans, essentially arguing that I was either lying or that I simply didn't exist.  I tried to reason with him but he just kept getting angrier and angrier until finally he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Well at least I know what I am when I wake up in the morning.”

I replied calmly, “you do know that asshole is not a sex, right?”

That was a misstep because that’s when he brought out the “M” word.  When you're transgender, you have to deal with most people considering you to be a “monster.”  

They might not say it out loud, but you can tell they’re thinking it.  Whenever I meet someone, they are usually very pleasant and smile broadly.  If the topic comes up that I’m transgender, however, that’s when I get …the look.   Every transgender knows this look very well.  It’s the “I’m going to continue to smile but I am so freaked out right now that I should very much like to run away” look.  I must confess to a bit of schadenfreude in that I will sometimes deliberately bring up the subject just to get that look.  It’s a sad form of entertainment, to be sure, but sometimes you take it where you can. 

I can’t really blame cis-folk for being afraid of us.  About the only representation of us in the media is movies like “Silence of the Lambs.”   But let me assure you right now …I am NOT sewing a woman skin suit in my basement …any more.  (My fault really.  I like TOTALLY ran out of lotion for it to put on its skin.)

There was a time when I very much disliked being called a monster.  It used to bother me a lot.  I didn't dislike the word because it's demeaning (which it is) or because it's an attempt to make us less than human (which it is.)  I disliked being referred to as a monster because...well, I didn't get any cool monster powers with this crap.  I can't blast anyone with my eyes.  I don't turn into Benicio del Toro when the moon is full.  And I’ve never sucked anyone’s…blood.

But sometimes it gets to you.  You can be called a monster just so many times before you start to think, "well maybe they're right. Maybe I am a monster."  It happens to me too.  Sometimes when I run in the morning, I don't even get out on the road before the testosterone demons come out.  They swarm around me like flies and torment me with “You think you’re a woman?  No.  You’re a monster.  You’re a hideous freak of nature…and your shoes are untied.”  If I look down for even an instant, they're all like,  “Ah.  I made you look.”  

Sometimes it gets so bad that I wind up running down the street waving them off and shouting, “leave me alone!  Leave me alone!”   I’m sure that if anyone actually ever saw me doing that, they would say, “Oh, it’s so nice to see the crazy homeless people getting out and exercising.” 

But they don't know.  They don't realize that I'm just trying to get rid of the demons in my head...which I guess technically DOES mean that I crazy homeless person....but I don't care.  I just want to get away. But you can't get away from them, 'cause they hunt you down until they get you cornered in a foggy alleyway somewhere and you turn into John Hurt and cry out, "I am not an an-i-mal.  I am a human being."

But then…in the depths of my despair, I'll hear a little voice saying, "everything is all right.  Everything is all right.  All these tormentors?  They're just part of you. They are your mistakes and faults and every bad decision you've ever made.   But those things ...define you.  If any one of those things had been different, you would not be you.  They only seem like demons because you’re trying to distance yourself from them.  The harder you push them away, the more demonic they become.  Stop pushing.  Bring them back to you.  Become one with your dark side.”

So I do that.  I get up out of my little hole...which is actually a relief since it's really hard to keep those things clean...and I gather all my personal demons back into me.  I literally pull them back and say, “We are one.  We are one.”  But when I do that, I don't just feel at peace.  I feel ...powerful.

Being a monster is a powerful thing.  People are afraid of monsters because they see that power and it scares the b'jeesus out of them.  Think about every movie you've ever seen with a creature and angry villagers chasing the creature with pitch forks and torches.  The monster is the only interesting person.  The villagers are boring.  They have boring jobs.  They live in boring houses.  They go to boring churches.  They are so afraid of anyone who dares steps outside “normal” and wants to move forward that they actually demonize the very word “progressive.”  Anytime I hear someone talk about "those damned progressives" you can be pretty sure I'm dealing with an angry villager. 

Throughout history it has only been the monsters that have advanced civilization.   Socrates, Galileo, Darwin….all of them were completely reviled and considered monsters in their time.  But it was these monsters that advanced civilization.  Without them, we'd all just be banging rocks together. 

By accepting my role as an outcast, I accept the responsibility to move the world forward.  By reclaiming the word "monster," I reclaim my power.   So, in the end… am I a monster?  You bet your ass I am.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.