It's generally accepted that we have five senses, sight, touch, smell, taste and hearing. In the context of my life as a trans person, the one that has most resonance is 'sight'.
But first, I know regular readers will want to have the musical accompaniment to this post - so let's ask our old friend David to help us out.
Sound and vision eh? - well, sound can come later in a post - and there are definitely some things to say on that topic but vision? In what context is this important to me as a trans woman?
Well - it comes largely courtesy of the Mr McGee to my David Banner - the dysphoria vs euphoria reaction that goes off inside my head. Very early on after coming out, my first counsellor asked me a simple question in relation to my gender identity. Super simple in fact; she asked 'what is it you actually want - what do you need?' And I gave an answer that now forms the pinned tweet over on my twitter account
It was a time where I was coming off the back of not wanting to live, and this being in part because of the distress of seeing in the mirror a face and body that just had no connection to who I was - the person inside. I spent a considerable time explaining to my sympathetic, but cisgender counsellor about how identity is formed by what is between the ears, not what is between the legs - which seems obvious and plain - but not something you'd imagine to be universal when reading the press in the UK right now. The connection between dispelling the jarring mismatch between that sense of self and the face in the mirror and the evaporation of shame, guilt and the need to hide was wholly instinctive - and I later discovered; not uncommon in the trans community.
Talking about this visual aspect of being trans tends to concentrate on the negative, the dysphoria - which until very recently was pathologized as being a mental illness to 'suffer with' - dysphoria or gender incongruence is in my view something you live with - and the coming out process represents a change in the way you live with it - by addressing it head on, you don't necessarily defeat it, but you do lessen it, you take away it's ability to debilitate 100% of the time. What is less often discussed is the concept of gender euphoria. The feeling of alignment that comes from living openly and expressing yourself authentically.
Social media sometimes covers this, and you'll see it in terms of people sharing 'dress go spinny' posts - where trans women celebrate being able to wear clothes they like for the first time, or by trans men celebrating the first time they could go shirtless in summer, or the first growth of facial hair. Euphoria can also involve celebrating sexuality - because trans people are human too and that projected shame often extends to prohibitions on the community celebrating themselves as being able to feel 'sexy' and attractive - which is nothing more than bigotry and projection.
Where was my first moment of true gender euphoria? - Perhaps there was something when I first saw my face in the mirror after having a makeover - but in all honesty the overriding sense that day was sheer relief; I am there - that's me, I exist.
But I am not sure now that it was true Gender Euphoria I was feeling that day. Like I say, it was raw, just a week after attempting to end my life and it was simple relief: a last throw of the dice. No. I think the first time I felt truly euphoric was some 2 months later. I'd been going for appointments with my new counsellor - still at that point in 'boy mode' - presenting male; but after a number of sessions where I spoke about who I was, I recognised the absurdity of doing this - I needed to be me - and to make it real. So, one evening I just turned up as me. I think this was a moment for my counsellor too - who noted that my posture had changed, my demeanor was immediately more relaxed and I had become even more eloquent in unpacking 43 years of hurt. But the point of true euphoria came on the drive to my counsellor's home - and it was tiny in size, but huge in impact.
I caught sight of myself in the rear view mirror of my car. A small rectangle but one which sent electricity through my whole body - the simple act of driving my car - safe, in my own space but secure as the real me was a feeling I had never had.
And it was then that I answered the question that dogs so many trans people, in and out of the closet - 'Am I trans enough?' and of course that answer is: we are all 'enough' - and there is no cookie cutter definition of how to be trans - it's just a manifestation that who you are doesn't match the physical manifestation and expectations that others have for you. To break that mismatch, even in the most tiny of ways is so much more powerful than the hatred of the parts that draw attention to it.
And to address whether this is about sexualisation, fetish or something insidious; like the thoroughly debunked and nonsensical concept of 'autogynephilia' - a pathology invented by a bigot to suggest that trans women are trans simply because they over sexualise women and try to achieve 'being' a sexy woman as part of this.
It's a nonsense, because my seeing the corner of my eye in a mirror was not a sexual thrill; the thought is as absurd as it sounds - it was simply the relief and normality of seeing reality reflected back at me. It's not something that cis people experience in this way - that congruence is something taken for granted, and it's a good uniter of the trans community.
So - if you wonder why trans folks love a selfie, this is probably why. Ask them how many they had or posted before transition, if you see a trans person celebrating themselves in a photo or in the mirror - don't offer tips, or comment, just offer love.
