Passing is such an interesting dilemma.
Post-FFS, I pass inconsistently, mostly as a product of my height and build (6,1”; footballer); my surgeon did miracles on my face.
I don’t actually care very much about when I don’t pass (though, I neurotically keep score). Depending on the context, it stings, but also I’ve had 2.5 years of it. (I literally don’t care at all if I don’t pass in the eyes of men—I’m not subject to their approval).
But when I provisionally pass I get extremely anxious.
That’s when the house lights come down and all of a sudden I’m standing in a spotlight.
And nothing hurts more than when I’m talking with someone, and while we’re talking, they realize that I’m trans. The light goes out in their eyes, but the conversation continues, and it’s like you’re talking to an afterimage of the person with whom the conversation began—the words are coming, but the warmth and humanity channels have just been cut off.
@nicole That's really pathetic and I'm sorry you experience shitty people like that.
@NickSchwanck I feel bad for everyone involved in these situations. 😆
But also I mostly just feel bad about myself. Which isn’t right or fair, but is exactly what it is.
Move on, roll the perception check again elsewhere. 🎲
@NickSchwanck I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I have to stop myself every so often to check my biases (within the last 48 hours, actually). They sneak up on you; they sneak up on everyone.
I think it’s fantastic that you were able to have that frank conversation with your daughter in the light of your own acceptance and growth. What a gift for both of you. ❤️
@nicole Thank you. 💛