i wear camouflage to blend in
Last year I wrote a very messy essay about my gender and its presentation. I had very recently begun identifying as a man after years of living as a nonbinary lesbian. I had no idea what I was doing and I still had that constant feeling of grossness hanging over my soul as I confusedly fumbled forward. What has changed since then?
This essay has been so messy and emotional for me that I’ve rewritten it multiple times. A lot has changed and a lot has happened. I still don't know if I'm capable of writing something coherent about it all. I expect to look back and find this one as humiliating as the old one.
Most notably, I pass now. I’ve only been called “ma’am” once in the past few months, and when I turned around that person awkwardly stuttered and apologized and swapped to “sir.”
This all started at my new job. I had a drastic transformation between workspaces, triggered by hitting a new low point.
For personal reasons, I needed a new job and I desperately sent out application after application, and one finally worked. I quit the old job with a single email saying I found a place that respected my time more. I shaved my head in a desperate bid to feel some sort of control over my life. When filling out my nametag, I replaced my androgynous and unique name with something more typical and masculine. My facial hair is more filled out, and the new dress code allows me to wear jeans with a t-shirt or hoodie.
I figured all of these changes had something to do with my new passing status, considering the week I quit that job was when I was informed that the other employees there had been arguing behind my back on what sex they thought I was born as. But a friend pointed out something interesting. This new job is guiding customers in a retail store's technology department. The old one was handing out free samples of food. There were a lot of physical changes, yes, but also swapping from one form of gendered work to another.
Passing as cis around cis people
One afternoon in November, I am at work busying myself on my phone during a slow day. I scroll through an article that goes over what trans people should expect under Trump’s leadership, if his attacks on trans insurance and nonprofits would result in me being unable to get top surgery.
A man wearing a hat that says “ULTRA MAGA” interrupts me and asks me for help with finding what cord will charge his phone. I take one glance at his phone and then walk him to the correct area and point at the cheapest cord that will work.
“Thank you, young man.” He smiles at me and shakes my hand.
The hateful dread swelts into a sick sort of confusion.
How do you cope with that? With being treated politely by terrible people, because they assume you are one of them? The temptation to smile back and say “I’m transgender.” and, what would they do? Assault me? Scream at me? Shut down and walk away? Tell me that they could tell all along?
I tell my therapist about that encounter. It reminds her of another client she once had. He was mixed race and white passing. There were times when he was surrounded by white people who were perfectly cordial with him, who he knew would turn on him in an instant if they knew who his parents were.
How odd. Such similar issues. But part of me instantly wants to put myself down and say, well, for me it’s a choice, for me I could opt out by detransitioning. But that’s a weird thing to do, to insist I’m that separate. We’re more alike than we are different.
Interacting with men as a man is something I need to get used to. I’m not well versed in socialization in general. This is an aspect of myself that I repeat over and over: I had some friends as a kid, then none as a teen. I ate lunch alone. I hid in the bathroom after I ate, so no one would see how alone I was. At my previous jobs, I was ignored and treated as an object.
But now, thanks to my new job, I’m friends with men who see me as a man. I am out only because they’ve had to see my legal name. But with one of those guys, I am completely stealth. He is shocked at how youthful I appear. He’s made a joke about his girlfriend leaving him for me. What struck me as odd about that one was, I never had someone so casually reference my attraction to women before. Because before, it was gay. But now it’s expected, it is an assumption. And now I am acknowledged.
Passing as cis around trans+ people
It is my first time in a gay bathhouse. I am apprehensive about how people will take me. I expect every single cis person to be transphobic to me. I stay fully clothed and stick to a quiet private room with a few friends and strangers where we sit around and chat. Someone uses the TV (that’s definitely intended for porn) to play speedrun videos on youtube.
Someone I’d just met and knew was transfem asks if we have any questions, being new and all. I ask where the bathroom is, because I have to piss.
She leads me across the dancefloor and through a loose group of people dancing. Some of them wear nothing but jockstraps. I notice how they have significantly less body hair than me. My new friend enters the bathroom, me behind her. Being silly, she makes an exaggerated gesture to the urinals. She says something like, “Here’s the urinals, enjoy!”
EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - That is a urinal. You can not use a urinal because you do not have a penis. She thinks you are cisgender.
YOU - “Aha, I need to use, uh, this one.” [Gesture to the singular stall.]
HALF-LIGHT [Medium: Success] - She’s going to think you lied about pissing and actually have to poop. We can’t let people know we shit!
1. [Composure - Trivial 4] Assure her that you don’t have to shit, actually.
CHECK FAILURE.
“I'm trans, haha!!”
...I mention passing nowadays to some trans real life friends in our discord server. They tell me they thought I was cis...
...Someone my partner is close to finds out I don’t have a penis. In confusion, they state they thought I was his cis boyfriend...
Why does anxiety grip my heart when I retype these things? What does it mean to be a trans person that other trans people see as cis? How do I feel like I belong when I am viewed as the oppressor?
What if, in another way, I don’t want to be seen as trans? Because I remember how people treated me before I passed and don’t want to go back?
As a transmasc, my masculinity was endearing. “Aw, look at ‘em go. You’re doing good, champ! You got this!”
As a cis-appearing man, my masculinity is scary. People give me more space. Their eyes dart a bit more. They stutter. People shake my hand now.
Imposter Syndrome/Internalized Transphobia
For a long time I thought I had imposter syndrome regarding manhood. I felt like an out of place imposter among cis men, and now I feel like a fake-invader among trans people. During an emotional breakdown, among my many rants to my friends I used the term “fakecis” for myself, which I suppose is reflective of the self image. If I don’t really fit in with either, where do I go?
...
I tell my therapist about something that happened earlier in the week. Someone close to me told me I have internalized transphobia and don’t really see myself as a man, and that’s especially bad because if I (binary, gender conforming, and passing) don’t see myself as a man, then I certainly don’t see this person (bigender, gender nonconforming no matter what gender you read hir as) as a real man.
My face splits into a huge uncomfortable grin as I confess just a few hours before that conversation, I was crying and scratching into my journal that I’m a delusional woman and not a man at all... Among many other things.
My therapist, who remained stoic through discussions of furry pornography and the moral policing I am expected to do regarding it, gay bathhouses, polyamory, etc… Blinked and shook her head in shock and was silent for a moment, before telling me that that was a lot, and we need to dedicate our next session to that.
I did not expect her to react like that, because I assumed a cis person would understand. I expected her to shrug sympathetically and say “Well, you aren’t wrong.”
In a way, I feel like I'm not quite "allowed" to express my true feelings. I wish I was born male. I'm a man trapped in a woman's body. Well, I used to be. I don't know what this body is now. Most trans people scoff at that language, say none of us actually feel that way. Is it true, and I'm alone? Or are they trying to make some sort of show to cis people?
Desirability
When your first and only relationship started with you being a nonbinary lesbian, what do you do moving forward as a man? I was desirable as that, what the hell am I meant to expect being this?
My relationship is open now. My partner has dipped into seeing other people. But I haven’t. I don’t put myself out there. I sit back quietly with my resting bitch face and don’t initiate anything. And I don’t really want to, either.
It’s easy to fantasize about going out there and meeting a guy who will suck me off, or making out with a woman I just met. But in reality, I am terrified. I expect my being trans to be a disappointment. Especially to gay men who expect dick. And when I don’t have one, expecting me to be a tolerable way to experiment with PIV sex. That’s what all FTM porn is, after all.
But no. I’m a top without a penis. No exceptions, I have vaginismus, so I couldn’t even if I wanted to. There’s really not much to say, how do you not feel broken? Part of me wants to remain completely celibate until I get phalloplasty. Because fuck it, why not, that'd be easier, wouldn't it?
And, again, I don't really... want to be seen as a trans man, because I fear people would demean me like they have frequently done beforehand... But being seen as a cis man, I scare people. Some people stay uncomfortable with me even after finding out.
Representation
As a furry, artwork is a big part of my life. And I see myself in the things I see. Or maybe I don’t.
To depict a trans man, you draw a guy with visible top surgery scars and a vagina.
This is problematic for people of color, fat people, those who are pre- and never- op, etc… But one thing that bothers me now as I attempt to achieve top surgery, and after that bottom surgery… What of post-op people?
Can you name a time you saw a man with a flat chest and a penis be explicitly trans? Sure, I could interpret any of that art in a trans light. But a guy with a flat chest and penis is never meant to be trans. What makes you trans is your boypussy.
Of course, it’s nuanced. A majority of boypussy art is drawn by people celebrating their own bodies and feeling sexy. So is a lot of the adult content uploaded online. But why does it make me uncomfortable to see a post-op guy in an FTM porn space add several disclaimers stating that he is trans so please don’t delete his masturbation vids?
Back to art, how do you even depict a post-op trans guy? Well, scars maybe. A graft. I think part of my problem is the usual porn-y body standards. No natural throbbing erections and busting fat loads for me. Of course that sucks. But a cisgender man with erectile dysfunction and dry orgasms feels the same. So maybe we just need more body diversity in art.
The Fursona Situation
So, uh, for all that gushing about how Ambergris is my epic new sona… I actually haven’t used him outside of fursuiting at all recently. I have a new new fursona. A truesona who is also actually his own character and has multiple AUs. Nathan. If you’re on PC, his paw is probably your cursor right now.
As a character, he has a very specific vibe. Me if my dad's side of the family was more active in life, if they were the main caregivers and not my mom's side. If I followed my impulses more, had less anxiety. If i played guitar and sang in front of people. A love letter to Appalachia and my life framed by endless ground-down mountains.
As a fursona, he is sexy and emotional. I had initially planned that Nathan would be literal and Ambergris metaphorical, but that didn’t last long at all. Putting rules and expectations on fursonas just isn’t for me. Ambergris is still beloved, but he is… Hibernating. He is an insane summer creature, and Nate thrives in the winter.
He is a vessel for further clothing inspiration, but only in my head. Because when I draw him, he is frequently naked. I hope to make more literal art of him in the future to show off him and the story I’m cooking up for him. But for now, the emotionally charged metaphors I put him in are most satisfying.
He also just mends with me spiritually. He is meant to be a “kinsona” of sorts. A sona based on my “kintype.” Basically, I feel a deep connection to cats. If I was a cat in a part life, that makes sense. My soul is cat shaped. My gender is “a stray cat learned what genders are and identified as a man about it.”
If I was a cat, I would be a domestic shorthair black mackerel tabby. But to be a bit cooler, Nate is an oriental shorthair black classic tabby. Because I’m a skinny lanky freak and its more fun to draw swirling markings.
Being out and about in nature makes me feel more connected to being a cat. I feel like I can create a relationship with the world around me as a cat who is also a human man.
I don't even want to talk about the clothing situation in this one, despite how important it is to my presentation. You wouldn't believe how fucking stupidly complex it is right now.
Moving Forward
I will continue to exist and do my best to feel happier while I do it. I am seeing a therapist who is cis and not fully familiar with the deep intricacies of the trans experience but because of that is somehow more affirming because then I know she isn't just saying what she was told is best to say.
I should be getting top surgery this year, though with Trump as president, I feel apprehension. But hope is rebellion. I certainly have a lot of shame and hang ups about not having the time or energy for the activism I know we need. I do what I can and I preserve my life while I do it. I realize now that this is a platform too, and I wonder if I can use it for sharing possible action rather than more of the usual "YOU SHOULD GET ANGRY NOW!! GET MAD GET MAD GET MAD NOW DO SOMETHING! WHAT IS 'SOMETHING'!? IT'S NOT MY JOB TO EDUCATE YOU!" postings.
I’ve quite obviously gone off the rails with this. This was probably mostly venting, but what else is there to do? I’m hoping this unfocused mess of an essay means something to someone, that’s all I guess.
Uploaded January 29, 2025