#trans stealth

The issue? Sooo many people know I'm trans irl.

And don't get me wrong. I'm not judging anyone who is trans and loud and proud about it, it's just becoming less and less my "thing."

https://www.transvitae.com/protecting-transgender-safety-online-a-guide-for-2025/

https://transaware.net/

For the plot: I'm a trans man post-surgery, several years on T, living life completely stealth.

As pride month is slowly approaching, several of my colleagues are finding their voices again and quietly b*tch about LGBT+, the usual. As if that wasn't bad enough they always happen to tell ME about it. Out of all people!?

Like yeah they don't know about my transition but I'm probably the one person at work that never said any anti-lgbt crap and yet they're always talking to me as if I'm the biggest supporter for their bs. And I can't even out myself (I'd ruin my joblife) or speak up loudly and it feels so incredibly disgusting. Of course I tell them I disagree and I try to advocate but I honestly don't even want to be the person they feel like they 'can come to' with these kinda statements. Like why me? Sometimes it makes me fear that I, in what way whatsoever, give off the same vibe to them that they see themselves?

Is this the price I have to pay?

When I was a little, little kid, I liked playing Barbies and other “girl things” with my friends. I liked playing as the Ken doll. I had lots of girl friends, but I never really felt like I was one of them. It almost felt like when I was invited to slumber parties I was there as an ‘honorary girl.’ I also liked “boy things” but had the same problem; I was a girl, so how could I expect to fit in with the boys?

When I was 11, I lived with my conservative, Baptist aunt and uncle. I told my aunt that I wanted a girlfriend. She said that she would not have a lesbian living under her roof.

When I was 12, I discovered Lord of the Rings, namely Arwen and Aragorn.

When I was 13 I went to high school and saw two girls holding hands. I didn’t know there were girls who held hands like that publicly. I made it my mission to be their friend, and declared to the world that I was totally, unequivocally bisexual.

When I was 16, I told my friends that I think I might be a guy. My girlfriend cried and begged me not to transition. My closest friends told me I definitely wasn’t a guy. I believed them and that was that.

I was the only girl to wear a tux in her senior photo.

When I was 17, a few weeks shy of turning 18, I watched America vote in favor of Proposition 8, the ban of same-sex marriage.

When I was 19, I entered a heterosexual relationship. I spent five years living in a 3-bedroom apartment with him and his 9 family members. I spent every last cent of my inheritance on them because none of them had jobs but there were three children to feed. We got engaged and I spent my time trying (and failing) to go to school while I took a fuckton of opiates and other drugs to cope with an undiagnosed illness and my self-induced depression. He broke up with me twice and took me back twice. The third time he left me I refused to take him back. He destroyed my family heirlooms, thanked me for the money I spent on his family, said “I hate you,” and never spoke with me again.

When I was 23 I met the best man in the world: John. It took him a year to say “I love you” and he did so on our one-year anniversary at an Applebee’s parking lot. I still make fun of him for this. 

When I was 24, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of same-sex marriage. This is the same year I was properly diagnosed and began to ween myself off of all medication, which was successful.

When I was 27 John proposed to me from the top of a ferris wheel at a fair. I said yes.

In October 2018 I told John I was a man. I expected him to leave me. He didn’t. 

During this time I reconnected with the very same friends from high school who advised me against transitioning. Long story short, I am still friends with all of them, and every one of them is 100% supportive. 

In June 2019 I got my first dose of testosterone. I couldn’t administer it myself because I was too afraid. John did it for me.

Now it’s National Coming Out Day and as of this year I’m starting to pass. Most people assume I’m a guy at first glance now which is AMAZING. And so today, I will be asking my friends and family not to openly tell others that I’m transgender. Stealth mode: activate. 

So what will this next year bring? Planning our wedding, hopefully. More facial hair. More exercise. Getting insurance and booking top surgery if I can. But ultimately? Just living as a man.