Book Review: "Transition" by Chaz Bono

"Transition" by Chaz Bono




book review by Cynthia Rodriguez


Yes, your favorite, friendly, gayborhood A.D.D pain-in-the-ass book reviewer is back! Sorry for the six month hiatus. I'll try not to let that happen again. Okay, moving right along...


So I wish I had known about, and read Bono's other two books "Family Outing", and "End Of Innocence" prior to getting my hands on "Transition". I felt like I was watching a movie sequel without catching the original. And I hate watching sequels without seeing part one, and two, and...ten, etc. I understand that it's not necessary in this case, but I'm still interested, which of course is a pretty good indication that I enjoyed this book.


I must say, I feel like it truly takes some major cojones to really put yourself out there in the public eye, and open up with such a tell-all story such as "Transition". I highly commend Chaz for it. No doubt, it is a courageous act, and not just in the actual physical transition itself but for sharing it with the whole world. You can tell how hard-core honest he is with his experience. Both the good, the bad, and everything in between, especially when it was all so recent at the time. The only thing about that I am curious about is how his family, friends, and then partner feel, or felt at the time knowing it was such an expose on not just himself, but everyone around him. In a memoir like that, there is no changing the names to protect the innocent, and the guilty. There is much name dropping. Certainly not in a malicious way, but just at times I'm sure it was painfully honest. I wonder if there were any of that, "I can't believe you mentioned that about me!" going on from someone talked about in the book.



One thing I have to mention before I go on is I couldn't help but think that she did sometimes suffer from what she calls the "poor little rich kid syndrome". I was torn. I realize she did obviously go through A LOT with this whole ordeal, but at the same time I thought to myself, "I'd seriously consider giving up my left tit for your kind of life." Traveling, traveling, traveling. Being a recording artist/rock star for fifteen minutes. Growing up with that kind of fortune, and fame. It's better than collecting unemployment. Okay, po' person bitterness aside...


I most definitely walked away from it with a much better understanding of what a trans person must go through. I won't say I'm some kind of expert now because I read his book about it. Like he says, it's different for everyone. Like everyone else, everybody has their own path. Meaning I won't go around telling every trans person I know, "Hey, I know exactly what you're going through because I read Chaz's book!" I'd say that would be pretty darn ignorant.


It also concretely confirms my own sexual gender indentity once, and for all. Meaning that at one point in my younger life, (as I've shared this with few people), I too once thought about transitioning. This was more in my earlier, developmental years. This was before I even knew what the word "transition" meant, (in that context), before EVERYBODY knew what it meant. I don't even remember that word used in the 80's! Now everyone talks about it, or at least has heard of it.


I actually shared with my girlfriend not too long ago, (yes, I have one of those now, thus my hiatus), using the book as an example. I told her, "He said he never wanted his then "her" breasts touched during sex. That it didn't feel right, natural, or good." I believe this was the clincher for me. Personally, being that although I wish I would have been a little more endowed, I know for a fact I enjoy my breasts very much, and I like them being enjoyed by someone else too, so I was like, "You know what? I LOVE being a woman." I never felt those things he did, so I know I'm in the right body, as imperfect as it may be, it suits me just fine.


I'm glad I never acted on those feelings when I was younger. (Not that I would have been able to afford it anyways), but this is exactly why I must say I have mixed feelings about some of our "transgender youth", especially since I personally know of some that have felt the same way, and it turned out that it WAS temporary. A phase. Not saying this applies to everyone, but I know it happens. Just my own belief but I feel that taking the hormones and actually physically transitioning should not be done until a person is at 18 years of age, when they would be considered a "legal" adult. I HAVE seen the documentaries on transgender youth, and I know it's a very real issue. Not disputing that fact, however, that's where I stand on that.


I attended a trans health conference a few years back for my then job, and it was also very enlightening, and educational. I feel like I still had many questions on the subject. More than what I came in with. I certainly want to learn more in order to erase any unnecessary fears, and ignorance I know I still have, including the fact that I am still in disagreement about unisex bathrooms, although there seems to be more, and more of those popping up in places, especially like in Philadelphia where I had my first experience with a unisex bathroom, and felt like I was in an episode of Ally McBeal.


I really don't like the idea of sharing a public restroom with men. Biological OR Transgender males. I have to admit, it makes me a little uncomfortable. I've always looked at a woman's public restroom as a safe haven of sorts where women (unlike men) usually travel to in flocks, but not just for it's original purpose. It's also a temporary escape from the official social gathering waiting outside it's doors. It's a place for the 5 minute gossip about the evening, where your femme friends touch up their make-up, where you can ask a total stranger (another woman) if she has a spare tampon, and if you're lucky, occasionally have that drunken, slutty moment at the local gay club where you end up making out with someone in there you just bumped, and grinded with on the dance floor. All of the above, not so much possible in a unisex restroom.

(A little post book update, the book itself ends with Chaz getting the top surgery, and being with his then girlfriend Jenny. I believe now they are not together anymore, and he is going for bottom surgery.)


I know I totally digressed as usual, but Chaz really does touch on almost all of these things in the book. This is just my take on it. I like to think that is part of what these types of books do. Crack open wide some dialogue.

I'm Just a Transguy, I Have Nothing to Hide

Today, Lesbiatopia brings you a special story from a good friend of mine and FTM transguy, McLovin. You may remember when McLovin first wrote about his story, Pretty Fly for a Trans Guy, about his decision to transition from female to male. Here's the next installment in his story.

I’ve got nothing to hide. Really. I try to be as forthcoming as possible without freaking people out. My level of honesty startles me sometimes. When someone asks me questions, I just blurt out the answer, I have always been like that. I’m not shy about who I am or where I come from. Of course, being a transguy and also being in the military means I have to bite my tongue, but I don’t really find myself biting it as often as I should. In fact, if I were not as well liked as I am, I am quite sure that I would have been in serious trouble by now for some of the smart ass things I have said and done. I have always been very forthcoming about everything… well, almost everything.


As a teenager, I used to roll down the windows of my rusty '87 hatchback mustang and drive with my hand out the window until it was numb. When I first got my license, I loved going out to the back roads in the country in Kentucky and turning up my music and screaming at the top of my lungs, blurting out everything I couldn’t say in front of others. The cold air rushing in and freezing the tears to my face, my hand would be so numb and useless I could barely roll up the window after I was done. Sometimes I would stare at it, red and chapped, and watch the blood seep back into my skin, or sometimes I would stick it to the overworked heat vent and feel the stinging and pricks all the way to the nerves. I had a lot of anger inside me and I couldn’t process it, I couldn’t even tell anyone about it. How are you supposed to tell anyone you are angry because you were born the wrong gender?

My best friends little brother, Joey, used to ride along with me. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but he was the one who was truly my best friend, and his sister, Angela, was more the object of my affection. Joey and I could talk about sports statistics, compare dream cars, and sometimes, if we were both in foul moods, he would dare me to drive faster and faster, and then to dip my tire off the side of the road, and finally he would ask me to run the car into a tree. At which point I would slow down and we would turn up the Ramones and forget our hatred of this world we called home. It was my only way of connecting with the reckless nature of teenage boys, something that lived inside me, but which I was not able to let loose. My brother tried to suppress it in me, as did many of my male friends because it intimidated them. They had long since abandoned the idea of me as friend and put me in the ‘other’ category, you were either datable, or ‘other’ if you were a girl. So, younger guys were my primary source of entertainment. I served as their leader and they served as my… well, I lived vicariously through them.

When I was 18, I decided I needed to get myself ‘fixed’, exorcise these demons tormenting my soul. I joined a youth camp which did charity mission outreaches throughout the world. Part of the application read in big bold letters, “Mark here if you have ever had homosexual contact, or desired homosexual contact.” I remember filling out the entire application and then leaving it on my desk for months unfinished because I didn’t know how to fill that part out… If I checked yes in the box, would they tell my parents? My ‘to be’ roommates? Would they try to put me in counseling? I thought my temptations were just my friends who I had crushes on, such as Angela, and I thought if I could just get away from them, my urges would go away. I figured at the ranch where I would train, the temptation would subside and perhaps God might heal me and set me free… No, I decided, no one had to know about my desires. After all, there was not a box on the page asking straight people if they were virgins or pure or how many ‘bases’ they had rounded in their teenage years. Asking about homosexual contact seemed a little inappropriate since others were not being asked about their sexual history. I checked ‘no’ in the box and mailed it in.

At the camp, I started at the lower level, the beginner level, if you will. This course was called a discipleship training school, teaching us how to become closer with Jesus and know him better. Due to my religious upbringing, I was better educated on biblical and spiritual things than most of the other 96 students, and even many of the counselors, so I often got bored with the lectures and would draw or write letters to my new found best friend, Melody. I didn’t have a crush on Melody, she is one of the first female friends in my memory that I didn’t have deeper feelings for. She made me laugh and helped me when I cried, even though I would never tell her what was wrong exactly. I made up excuses about be angry at my mother, missing my family, and just hating that my parents were divorced. Her parents had split up too so she understood why I could be so upset about such things.

Twice the subject of being gay came up in my 5- woman small group discussions, and twice I allowed the other girls to sweetly gay-bash and spout misguided thoughts and scriptures without saying a word. We regularly prayed for those in our class who we suspected might be homosexual. Oddly, I never felt awkward doing this, since deep in my heart, I think I knew that being gay was not even close to my actual problem.

At one point, our counselors, who were mostly rather close in age and experience to many of the rest of us, decided we would hold a bon fire and burn our ‘vices’.

“Whatever you feel is holding you back, you will write it down and then throw it in to the fire in front of everyone.” announced Evelyn, one of the female counselors (who later actually tried to get me to confess my homosexual inclinations to her by throwing herself at me while we shared a bed on our mission outreach trip). Hearing this, we all shifted uneasily, and Evelyn continued, “You don’t have to confess it out loud, but we strongly encourage you to denounce it with your voice for all to hear, we believe it increases accountability and it increases the spiritual power which you have to resist it.”

We were allowed fifteen minutes to go back to our dorms and grab up something or write something down which represented the things in our hearts which held us back from getting closer to God. We all returned, some people had CD’s of bands like Marilyn Manson, or pornographic magazines, which were forbidden on campus. Some girls had pictures of boyfriends from back home, some had packets of cigarettes, a few turned up with drugs and liquor, which were also not allowed and were grounds for getting kicked out. Most held sheets of paper with words written on them, crumbling them in sweaty, nervous palms. The counselors turned up worship music on loudspeakers and lit the fire and a few at a time, my classmates were going up and throwing their symbols of bondage and chains into the fire and shouting declarations such as: ‘I will no longer let *blank* have this power over me!” or “I am free of the oppression of drugs!” or “I will no longer listen to the lies of this!” One girl had a diet book in her hand and announced to everyone that she was anorexic and needed serious help, so the counselors scurried her away and put her on a special program. Several people, mostly the men, were silently dropping in tokens of their pain which they didn’t wish to announce, one guy dropped in his favorite t-shirt and later he was kicking himself for doing so.

While I enjoy and fully believe in a metaphoric ability to release oneself from vices, in hindsight, the emotional manipulation and strength of peer pressure was nearly overwhelming in this case. Noticing most of my close friends had already had their turn, I sat there, debating what I might say or proclaim as I threw my sheet of paper in the fire. Melody nudged me and I stood up and walked toward the flaming barrel of trash, pouring black smoke from the plastic melting onto the wood. For a moment I had the words, and then they left my brain and I blurted out, “I forgive my mom for abandoning me!” People clapped and cheered and I got a pat on the back and some hugs. But I sat down realizing that this place was not going to help me with my real problem. What I had really written on that sheet of paper, now burning, was not about my mother at all.

I imagined the symbolism of a sweet burning sacrifice to God, the aroma pleasing to his nostrils, as the old testament put it, turning to a wretched stench hanging in the halls of heaven as my paper was swallowed by flames, carried upward by my lying words. My tongue, meaning to speak truth over my life at this moment in a healing way, had turned the entire event for nearly 100 people into a laughing spectacle. My heart was heavy because what I had written on that paper, I was too ashamed to admit even in the face of a promise of complete redemption: “God, heal me from being attracted to girls. I have tried everything. I’ll even fake it if you give me the right chance. Just help me.”

Being much older and slightly wiser now, I do not think that God had to clothespin his nose at my confession that day. After all, I did in fact, harbor some serious resentment for my mother, and that could very well be root to some of my many short comings. However, being attracted to women, I found, was certainly not a manifestation of ‘mommy issues’ nearly as much as it is a part of the fabric of my sexuality. After this camp, I spent another two years in denial and in pain, trying to force myself into a non-queer, gender-conforming lifestyle. I donned makeup, allowed guys to come on to me, including a man I met at that very camp, whom I thought was my ‘answer,’ This ended up making me feel more guilty and unnatural than ever before. Somehow, it felt as if my acting straight were the sin and embracing a ‘sinful’ yearning would bring the redemption and peace I truly sought.

In retrospect, learned many things from my experiences at missionary boot camp, and probably the most important thing would be that I no longer wanted to hide the one thing I had not allowed myself to blurt out for all those years. If I had to do it over again, I still wouldn’t check the ‘homosexual’ box, though. I would instead, write in a Transguy box and mark it with a capital ‘X’.

Pretty Fly for a Trans Guy: A Trans Story

Lesbiatopia readers meet Mclovin. Mclovin is a very good friend of mine. He was a strappingly handsome butch when I met him a little over a year ago and has since decided to transition from woman to man. He is an awesome person; a lot of fun, kind, helpful, funny... really an all around guy. I am so supportive of his decision to transition and have asked him to share his story with you because I know you will show him the kind of love and support that he needs. Now, without further ado...Mclovin's story (pseudonym being used to protect the authors identity). - Renee

- by: McLovin
I am your typical red blooded, all American male. I like motorcycles and I pin up pictures of hot, mostly naked chicks on my walls. I wear a lot of blue and brown. I sport one earring. I play drums, chess, and love healthy competition. Not to say that being an American male necessarily has anything to do with these interests, but to me, it’s defining, and being defined is something I have lacked for so long that finally finding a boundary is actually freeing. I will explain, you see, I am a transgendered man.

What does that mean, you say? Well, honestly, until recently, I had no idea. And it seems pretty cliché for me to write about it since my story is just about like two dozen others that can be read online. I am finally able to say it out loud to myself, allow it to sit in my ears and relish in my new found self proclamation. Basically, what this means to me is that I am going to endeavor on a journey which will make me love and embrace myself for the first time in my existence, but could possibly make most every other person who has loved and embraced me throughout my life reject me.


I received Barbie dolls for my birthdays until I was 9. I was made to be a witch for Halloween, not a vampire, and made to wear a princess dress, even though on a regular basis I would pretend I was Prince Philip from Sleeping Beauty. I took an early interest in sports and athletics, and I was an aggressive and active child, always picking fights and very often winning them, with other neighborhood boys. Imagine my surprise when I realized I was the only one who knew I was a boy.

I began to emulate females because everyone else placed these expectations on me, and by everyone else, I mean the people who bought my clothes. I did those things females do because everyone expected me to. Not because it felt natural or because I wanted to, but because I did not want to disappoint. I always wanted to swim with my shirt off, and be a boy scout, and imagined myself growing up to be a man. I never shared this with anyone but my dog. Even as a young child, I remembering fearing the inevitable rejection. I am to the point in my life now where I embrace those boyish adventures I never got to pursue comfortably as a kid. Many of the things I was unable to enjoy as a little girl, I am revisiting as a newly released ‘man’. Sure it seems a little juvenile that I laugh at fart jokes, but considering I spent the better part of my teens crying into my pillow and pasting smiles on my face just to get through another day as a ‘girl’, I figure I owe myself the opportunity to be a kid.

Coming to grips with my gender identity has left no corner of my life unturned. I forced myself to rethink the religious doctrines I was taught as a child and blaze a path of my own. I believe God has feminine and masculine traits. Since God is so illusive with his gender and at times even androgynous, wouldn’t it then make sense for him to include that pattern into his creation as well? I mention this because I feel connected to God as a man in ways I never could imagine as a woman. I see myself as someone strong and able to protect and provide for a family and raise healthy, well rounded children, who experience love and acceptance from two parents, committed to each other. As a female, I never had a desire to be married, raise children, and certainly never felt capable of being the leader of a family. I know many women who fill this role regularly and capably, however, I was never one of them. It simply was not in my heart. As soon as I began accepting myself as a guy, hell yeah, all of the above! I could be a great husband, forgetting anniversaries and birthdays, and a great dad getting a ‘dad of the year’ barbeque apron for fathers day, and teaching my kids to drive in the local mall parking lot.

I still have a ways to go on my journey of self-discovery. It’s unfortunate that the process of figuring out who I am causes so much tension in my relationships with the people I love. I want to share my story for several reasons: I know that there are other guys like me out there, and I want them to know they are not alone. Two, I want to educate people who may be ignorant or misinformed on what it really means to be transgendered. Most of all, though, I want to be completely honest about who I am. I don’t ever want to hide in the closet any more. This is me, and you can take it or leave it. I won’t change for anyone but me.

Pay and Prejudice: Gender Change Means Loss of Pay for Some

A recent blog post at the NY Times site discussed the impact of gender change on one’s economic status. The post was based upon a B.E. Journal of Economic Analysis & Policy article prepared by Kristen Schlit and Matthew Wiswall found here http://www.bepress.com/bejeap/vol8/iss1/art39/ . What Schlit and Wiswall found was that much of the stigma behind gender change tended to be very different for transwomen versus transmen. Transwomen faced greater stigma and prejudice than transmen and this was often reflected in the economic impact of the shift. For instance, transwomen tended to have a greater number of pay cuts, and tended to loose their jobs more often than transmen did. Schlit and Wiswall theorized that the issues might be more about male/female prejudices than those based upon transgender perceptions.

The article got me to thinking about the variety and level of prejudices that may exist towards the LGBTI community. After all, most of the time, prejudice is based upon a number of complex rules that often stratify society based upon varying degrees. If you watch the Mel Brooks movie Blazing Saddles, you hear an echo of those prejudice when the townsfolk try to refuse having any Irish join them in Rock Ridge.

As a lesbian transwoman, I have had to wonder how the stratification of prejudice against the LGBTI Community works, and how much the perceptions of me prior to my transitioning affected the attitudes after I went full time. Prior to going full time, the majority perception that others had of me was that I was a gay man. After all, I was feminine. My clothing and mannerisms were more female than male, and I was not dating any woman anyone knew about. What I never said to anyone was that I did not date because of my dislike and even disgust with heterosexual sex and an inability to engage in sexual expressions which felt more normal and natural to me. But, pegged as a gay male, I found my transition time far easier than the horror stories that I had heard. Except for hitting some entrenched prejudices with certain professors, I found that most people accepted me without batting an eyelash. I chose not to tell them I was lesbian, and let their assumptions go unanswered. Except for a few friends in the very small LGBTI community where I lived, no one knew about my sexuality, and I decided it was for the best. At least my friends never had an issue with this.

I have wondered after that if I had inadvertently stumbled into the way that society perceives gays, lesbians and transpeople. Is it, shall we say, more alright for women to love women than for men to love men? Is it more acceptable for a ‘gay’ man to become a woman than for a ‘straight’ man to become a woman? Is a transman more acceptable to society than a transwoman? This is a complex issue. I have certainly seen the patterns that this issue make. It can be little things like how DeGeneres and DeRossi’s wedding got a full, multipage write up in People Magazine, but the wedding of Takai and Altman got two pages and around two-thirds of a column. Could there be other issues regarding why they chose to do that? Certainly, after all, DeGeneres is a big star right now, and Takai’s stardom is far more muted. They may have also chosen to do more on DeGeneres rather than Takai because People’s core audience is women. However, you still have to wonder. . .

I will, as time goes along, write more about this, but I am also curious to hear from others. This is something that, truthfully, I have not seen a lot discussed about. Are there subtle differences in the prejudices that the LGBTI community faces?

Before That Sex Change, Think About Your Next Paycheck

Eighth Grader Fights to Wear Make-Up To School

(Photo: Jason Garrison)

I stumbled across THIS article about a 13 year old Ohio boy who was forced to wash the make-up off of his face when school administrators said it was a distraction and against the dress code.

"When I spoke to the principal," his mother said, "She told me it was distracting because of the black makeup and I said, 'Well, I'll get him pink,' and she said no, because he's a male, he's not allowed to wear it, the public don't accept males wearing make-up."

Ball and her son point out that every student is required to wear a character badge – and one of the qualities it pledges is acceptance. "It says, 'do you value the uniqueness of all students?' and they're not letting me be unique," says the young man, Matt Allsup. "I don't see why we have to wear them if we're not able to express who we are."

Matt's mother, Mindy Ball: "They're gender stereo-typing. He's being sexually discriminated against. Nowhere in the rules does it say that males can't wear make-up".

Matt and his mother plan to hire and attorney and take the issue to court.

Do you think Matt should be allowed to wear make-up or do you believe it's against the dress code?

IDKEX Diary: September 10 Miz Ginger Jones

As part of IDKE X, the International Drag King Community Extravaganza pre-event festivities, many of the performers and drag troupes have agreed to share their thoughts and stories about the upcoming event. Our 4th journal entry comes Miz Ginger Jones.

What did I get myself into?

This phrase has gone through my head more than once since embarking on this train ride through drag history and future. Had I known what my life would be like for the months of September and October 2008, perhaps I would have declined getting so involved with IDKE.X. But, I would have missed out on an amazing opportunity to be involved with a historical event in my town, in my community, and the idea of that is worse than the headaches and late nights.

But perhaps I am just a masochist.


Perhaps I am just a nerd who cannot help but get excited when reading abstracts and proposals which use the words “subversive,” “reify,” “deconstruction,” “genderqueer,” “feminism,” and “queer theory.”

I think, perhaps, I am a masochistic nerd who loves academia and performance and critical analysis of our community’s/communities’ queer and gender-fucked ways of expression, living, and performing.

I became a performer because of a queer theory course in grad school when I realized that I as a femme too could be a gender performer. My deep-seated love for the glamour, glitter, and jiggles of the stage came pouring out and hasn’t really stopped since. Ultimately, IDKE.X has been the perfect place for me to both nerd-out and glamour-out. Through organizing the IDKE.X Conference, I have been able to once again combine my love for the academic and my love for performance, performers, and the stage. In many ways it has gotten me prepared to re-enter the academic world as a student in just a couple of (very) short weeks, just before the hordes of genderfuckers descend on Columbus.

When I entered graduate school the first time I asked myself, “What did I get myself into?” The answer then was a crazy, self-directed rollercoaster ride of education, exploration, excitement, and a lifetime of memories.

The answer now isn’t much different:
IDKE.X has been a once-in-a-lifetime train ride with highs and lows and a lot of education. And while I could have been just a passenger watching it all whiz by, I am so glad and grateful I took charge of my trip through the drag kingcommunity’s past, present, and future.

Kisses,

Miz Ginger Jones

Transgender Contestant to Compete on American's Next Top Model

This just in from UsMagazine.com...

One of the 14 girls who will compete on the new season of America's Next Top Model – which returns to The CW on September 3 – is transgender.

"My cards were dealt differently," Isis, a 22-year-old former receptionist, tells Us Weekly exclusively in its new issue, on newsstands now.

Hailing from Prince George's County, Maryland, Isis identifies herself as "a woman born physically male."

Will she be a role model?

"I like to help people, but I'm here to follow my dreams," she tells Us.

The inclusion of Isis is being hailed by GLAAD president Neil Giuliano as "an unprecedented opportunity for a community that is underrepresented on television.

"We applaud Tyra Banks and The CW for making this historic visibility of transgender people possible," Giuliano said.

I would just like say that this is a huge leap for GLBTQ visibility and although this is probably going to cause some kind of crazy riot among the homophobes, I applaud Isis for being an out transgendered woman on National television. You go girl!


Technorati Tags: transgender,, america's, next, top, model,, tyra, banks,, gay,, lesbian,, queer,, modeling,, realty, TV

The Trans Man Diaries: My First Testosterone Shot

I am more driven to succeed than I have ever been in this life. Ever. And I live for the day that I make it big in whatever career path I choose, financially stable, and surrounded with a family that I have always longed for and deserved"….

excerpt from the Trans Man Diary The journey of Jamie…. transitioning from female to male.

This is a video of me giving me myself my first injection of Testosterone. The shot didn't go exactly as planned and by that I mean it was almost a total disaster. The entire process took over a half hour, but the video was edited down to 6 minutes or so just to capture the important parts.


As for the effects of the transition itself, well, LOTS TO REPORT!! My voice is dropping!! I'm getting hairier, and apparently, a little teensy, weensy, STINKIER!! LOL Like now when I work out I actually smell more like a dude..one of the less appealing effects, but what are ya gonna do?? Gotta take the good with the bad.

I've also been interviewing for jobs and continuing to lead a double life. On some interview I pass for a guy, and on others I'm seen as a butch lesbian. Its very interesting because however they perceive me is what dictates how I act! If they perceive me as a boy, I try very hard to talk low and not so much, and as a result, I seem like a shy, bored, straight guy..which is so awkward because I am such an animated, outgoing, funny individual. If they perceive me as a butch lesbian, I seem more talkative but sort of like I just came out of the closet..oy. So, as the transition carries on I know these two personas will disappear and I can just be myself. It's just kind of making do until then.