Before I transitioned, before I even knew I was trans, I found male spaces a real challenge to navigate.
Before I transitioned, before I even knew I was trans, I found male spaces a real challenge to navigate.
I have never understood the ins and outs, the appeals, the hooks of being ‘one of the boys.’ Something about the very phrase sends shivers through my spine. Indeed, it makes me cringe to think that I was ever even close to those circles. Hopefully, few, if any, people have ever really thought of me in those terms – I never was a ‘man’s man’ anyway and my list of close male friends can probably be counted on one hand (two at a stretch – sorry gents!) – but I’ll come back to that in a moment.
There is a peculiar way of interacting with others that, though usually completely subliminal and unintentional, is undeniably male. It is also something that is very difficult to pin down without falling into stereotypes and the old ‘oh, but I’m not like that’ arguments. (Ironically, even that is a much more male response to a situation.) Maybe the best way to describe it is to note a certain tone or inflection to the way that men speak – particularly to other men.
We are not talking about the casual ribbing during a beer and football session, nor any form of sexist overtones, overt of otherwise. There is a social dynamic that has been established through centuries or more of bizarre, power-focussed inter-personal relationships and privilege that then seems to bleed into everyday life and speech. A competitiveness or need for dominance; in any conversation there is a requirement to solve or resolve a situation. Funnily enough, my wife, who has supported me through my transition completely, has always said that one of the reasons she was attracted to ‘male’ me in the first place was because there was never any ‘Macho Bullshit’ as she put it.
(Please be aware that this is not a criticism, nor is it a catch-all that applies to everyone universally. Women, too, often fall into similar patterns of speech if they are in authority positions, for example. I am sure there will be feminist writers and academics who can explain in much more erudite and researched terms than I can.)
Anyway, completely unconsciously I used to always find myself drifting towards female friendship groups and social circles without meaning to. I will admit that sometimes this started out as some form of romantic attraction. As a young, ostensibly male, person at the time I doubt this is any surprise. Yet without fail, these initial feelings drifted away from sex and romance and into strong friendships – one or two of which remain even until this very day. In so doing, I would then find myself with a group of female friends with whom I had significantly more in common than with any male people that I would meet.
It is not that I do not have male friends, I did and do. What I find interesting, though, is that of these closest male friends I do not think any of them could be categorised as particularly ‘manly’ men. My best friend Max is in no way macho or exceedingly ‘male’. To be honest, other than a resolute competitive streak and unbreakable stubbornness, he is as good as one of the girls at times (and probably is happy to admit that). Others fall on different levels and for different reasons, and in my wider circle of friends and acquaintances there are of course those who do meet those criteria.
I do, now, mostly shy away from male company in preference for that of fellow women. Sometimes this is a choice that I make. Whether I pick up a bad vibe or just have nothing in common with them… occasionally you just know. At other times it is more of a natural development of social interaction: I drift(ed) towards talking to the women of a group much more easily than the men.
Yet there have also been times where I have quite definitely NOT had a choice in the matter. There is one particular example that comes to mind when thinking about this problem, and actually what is interesting is that it might have been part of the catalyst for my final realisation about being transgender.
I was undertaking my second placement during my Post-Graduate Certificate in Education, i.e. my teacher training, and was placed in a school about half an hour away from where I live. From the very first interaction with the head of department, I knew I was in for a long few months.
‘So, do you know how to answer the phone? Good. What about make tea? Hrm. Oh, you’re married? Why bother, all that brings is trouble!’. You get the gist. Essentially, Paul (not his real name) was making a power play right from the offset. He was in charge and my fellow trainee, Peter, and I were not. We were expected to do what he needed, when he needed it and if we weren’t alright with that then we could ask for a different placement. Great start…
As it turned out, Paul was a fairly nice guy and we got on reasonably well. Yet his clear sense of dominance was always underlying the jokes and ‘fun.’ The second in department, Michael, was my personal mentor and he was not quite so demanding of obedience. Meanwhile the three others that worked in our area (Luke, James and Matthew) would pop in now and again for lunch or to ask questions, that sort of thing. This was a very Male environment (note the capital M). There were two female members of staff that interacted with us ‘regularly’, but for the most part their presence in the office was fleeting.
Jokes were always heavy on the innuendos or ridicule, my name became ‘Flash Barge Boat Bastard’ because I mentioned how much I enjoyed a narrow boat holiday and would consider buying a boat if I won the lottery (amongst other things, naturally). We would joke about Michael being ‘a big woman’ because he would actually show human emotion from time to time. Paul’s ex-wife was never mentioned in positive terms, and Peter was subject to what was tantamount to bullying at times.
Male with a capital M!
My discomfort at playing the hyper-masculine role was apparent to me from the outset. I even said to my wife once ‘I’m sorry for the way I’m being at the moment… I think it’s just the constant testosterone at work!’ I did not want to be there and did not really want to be in that position, but there I was. I found it physically uncomfortable. I was reluctant to come in of a morning, and desperate to leave as soon as I could after 3pm. A job opportunity came up there and I thanked my lucky stars that I had already secured employment elsewhere.
Interestingly, I even at one point, had to fend off some transphobia by a female member of staff who started making comments about trans people being ‘mentally ill’ or ‘play acting’ and heavily implied that trans women were little more than gay prostitutes. This is offensive in and of itself, and to be upset by it is only natural. But something in the direct attack on trans people really touched me at a visceral level – I was more than disgusted. I was furious. I was in no position to challenge her directly because as a trainee teacher I was at the bottom of the ladder. Not long after I realised that the strength of my reaction was rooted in the fact that it felt like an attack on me personally, even if I did not realise why at the time.
Having said all this, I feel that it is important to say that none of these individuals were bad people and I hold no resentment towards them – except for guess who! They were all great teachers, and I learned a hell of a lot about the profession and how to do it better. The problems I faced here were ultimately my own – I was, indeed, a fish out of water in various senses of the phrase.
However, it was my willingness to use the opportunity to my advantage and learn as much as I could that got me through it. I was flexible in my approach, able to take on a persona that fit with the environment that I found myself inhabiting. I knew that my placement would be finished soon, and that gave me some degree of comfort. If there was any kind of advice or tips that I would offer to anyone finding themselves in this kind of situation it would simply be: make the most of what you can, it is not forever. If it IS ‘forever,’ and you do not have an end in sight, then you may need to consider taking the leap and getting a new job/placement/whatever as soon as you are able to!
Above all, though, you need to be kind to yourself. Ending up in difficult situations is bound to happen, but these moments pass and lead to something new. Often something better. For me, overall, it was my experiences at this school, perhaps, that inspired a lot of questioning about my gender identity and what it meant to me to be ‘a man.’ It was only weeks after finishing my placement – less than, possibly, that I first dabbled in my own femininity. Rapidly, questions that had puzzled me about who I was and how I felt began to find answers. My reluctance to form male friendships. My distaste at macho identities. My inability to perceive myself as a ‘real man’ in that kind of space. The extreme of being so out of place opened my eyes.
And I am happier now than I ever was. As a woman I feel freer to move around the world comfortably and be who I am meant to be. And male spaces no longer feel like an obligation. Nor a burden. It took a while, and more than a little trial and error. But I am me – and that is awesome!
AHF Writes 