On visibility.

April 1, 2020

A bit of a strange Trans Day of Visibility this year.

While the world has been called upon to Shelter in Place as we collectively battle this pandemic, I’ve been thinking a lot about what “visibility” means.

In this cis-default world, its very easy to tie your self worth and affirmation to the positive or negative feedback you receive from society around you. I know for me, I gain a lot of affirmation of my gender identity from the millions of micro interactions I have throughout the day. Having my preferred pronouns used, hearing my chosen name, receiving compliments on my clothes or makeup, or having the privilege of the world reading me as a woman in other ways definitely lifts my spirits and keeps my mind off the challenges and tribulations faced by trans and non-binary people everywhere who are fighting to survive and thrive. Just this week, Idaho passed legislation under the radar of our public health crisis that bars trans women and girls from competing in sports, and all trans people from changing their sex designation on their birth certificates.

In isolation from this external stimuli, I’ve had a lot of time to consider my gender in a vacuum. When I’m not performing for others, how do I feel? What am I left with? When I wear the same sweats and tee multiple times per week, go a day or two without shaving my face, or don’t bother tucking to do yoga in my room, do I still feel like a woman? The answer is yes, but an unsteady one.

Before transition, I used to debate whether the dysphoria I was feeling was a lack of something or an abundance of the wrong thing. Is it truly the dark that scares us, or simply the absence of light? I still don’t have a conclusive answer, but I feel myself becoming more comfortable with the person I’m left with when I’m alone.