Note: This post briefly mentions rape. Also, throughout this piece I use certain terms interchangeably, like “gender” and “sex”. I tried to be more accurate at first, but then decided fuck it, our language sucks, I’m just going to use whatever feels right at the time. For a more detailed deconstruction of gender, sex, and the way I actually define myself, check out the piece Disowning Labels in my chapbook, Bite. TLDR; I don’t actually have a gender, and for me transition is about fixing body dysphoria. I wish I had better words to use in the title. /pedantry
Oh and sorry to those who arrived via Google, this post isn’t a series of photos showing changes from HRT. You’ll have to look elsewhere for that. /unnecessaryapology
There are many trans narratives—the stories of how a person comes to know they are trans. There is no one single way we figure outselves out. Some know from early childhood, some figure it out later in life. Some transition from one binary gender to another. Some are one gender their whole life, just not the one people assigned to them. Some change their bodies, some don’t. It’s complicated.
The media, however, likes to portray a “standard narrative” of transness. The idea is that “real” transsexuals always know their gender from a very young age, always exhibit signs of being normative members of that gender, and later get “the operation” to join the ranks of the so-called “opposite” sex. My own narrative matches the mainstream one in a few superficial ways, but differs from it greatly in others.