Mars : Venus
Many people have misconceptions regarding homosexuality and transgenderism.
Firstly, homosexuality refers to an individual interested in others who is of his/her birth gender. The difference with transgenderism is that they feel that they are of the opposite of their biological gender, thus they do not consider themselves to be homosexuals.
Transvestism is simply an individual who likes to dress as the opposite gender. It doesn't make them transgenders or homosexuals.
With that cleared, allow me to share my story with you.
Once upon a time, I got to know a guy who possessed a wicked sense of humor and a sweet, caring nature. We'd check guys out. He'd give me fashion advice. All pretty normal activities of a meterosexual male.
His effeminate nature drew lots of attention. Being very close to him, this automatically sparked off an intense defensive mode in me. Hearing the taunts, then seeing him hunch away in the crowds just broke my heart.
Even if he is what you say he is, he's still my friend.
Or so i thought.
True enough, the changes surfaced right before my eyes. He grew to have more courage to accept himself the way he had always perceived himself to be. He became more comfortable in female clothes and wore them whenever situations warranted.
You mean you're gay!?
No, i'm transgender.
Prior to this, I had always thought I was liberal, able to accept homosexuality and that transvestism was just a passing fetish. My preconceived notions regarding sexuality could not make any sense of it all.
At first, he came out into the open to a select few. I tried all ways and means to entice him to revert back to his masculinity. Let's get you back in guy's stuff… this will look so good on you.
We'll find you a girlfriend, ok?
One time, he wore female clothes on a school occasion. My dear friend, he performed his dance, a tribute he dedicated for the teachers, in his dress and wig. It shocked the entire student and teacher population. He'd finally come clean.
Only he remained locked in his own world, shunning the gasps, the stares, the pointing, the muffled whispers.
Reveling in the joy that only freedom can bring.
Again, I tried all I could, this time, with added vengeance. I took it upon myself to understand his background, getting him to share his past. We talked and talked and talked. I had known him from the start as a guy. Now, suddenly, he tells me he's actually a gal.
All this as he went for his hormone replacements and therapy. I was there to see the transformation of the body. Of how the breasts evolved. Of the interventions he took to conceal his male identity. I was there, watching all this, without any power to do anything.
I tried very hard (but apparently not hard enough) to accept him, complete with all the frills and the big hair.
How could I ever?
On an outing to orchard road, I witnessed the shit he had to endure. The same stares, the same finger pointing, the same lame taunts. This time, with increased ferocity. And I felt it was directed to me. The duress became so surreal, I told him straight in the face that we'd only meet when he'd wear male clothes out with me. I had naively thought this would rectify matters.
As expected, our friendship hit a dead end.
He confessed to our mutual friend that it wasn't the same without me around. I felt the same way too. My friend did try his best to patch things up. But pride to remain 'true' to our own set of principles, just kept the relationship stuck in the rut. We passed each other as strangers. We'd simply look through each other in the hallway, rejecting whatever opportunity to rekindle what we shared.
The revelation only struck me during a conversation with someone. I asked her how she could accept something so morally and socially deviant.
'under all these (skin) only red blood flows'
I thought about the personal stories he had shared with me. About all the shit that he had to endure just to be true to himself. About all the friendships that had forsaken him. Including mine.
I was nothing more then a discriminating bitch.
Where was the evidence of someone that could accept these variations in society? He had taken me for all I was, my explosive temper, my straightforwardness, my tactlessness. I, had selfishly returned it with imposing value judgments, and recoiling when he needed me.
I went through a personal struggle to accept him. And it was hard. It may be easy for others, but it certainly wasn't for me. In my mind, he is a guy, and may always be.
I had to realize that it wasn't him that I was uncomfortable with. It was the shit from the others that I couldn't quite stomach. And after I made clear distinctions between the two, it started to get better.
And there was nothing to revert him to. To him, he had always pictured himself as a female. He too, had to undergo (far too) much to come to grips with this.
How can you change something that feels so right?
Thus far, our friendship is 6 years old and still going strong. We meet up whenever we can, and exchange smses almost everyday. Our conversations last for hours and there's nothing much we keep from each other. He's brought me into his circle, and I've been there to lend support for his pageants.
In the process, I’ve gotten to know some 'sisters' (aka transgenders) and experienced how human they are. The demons are the people that ostracize and exhibit this supremist notion that everyone should live the way we want them to.
Nowadays, I'm getting used to this female persona that I so affectionately call my wonderful friend.
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