God knows I'm a DragQueen

This is an interesting picture, of me, when I was about fourteen I guess. I've never seen it before; a friend took it on her confirmation day which I attended. I was suppose to be confirmated too but when there was only two weeks left of intensive bible studies I decided I'd had enough. Not of the religion per se, but the people "confirming" their beliefs... Most of them it seemed only did it for the gifts they were about to recieve. I didn't even know you'd get that, thinking that one did this for insights in the religion one were baptised into, and for your own curiosity and personal spirituality. Yeah, I was naïve and sick to my stomach when I learned that people were expecting televisions, mopeds and other fancy stuff for doing this. I couldn't understand how the church accepted it and thought the kids should be embarrassed when their parents showed of with their bribes. It was nothing but a show of money and social status (not in all cases, of course, some people are normal, thank god). So I only went there for those friends hanging in there but as you might be able to see I wore a golden crucefix around my neck, obviously to make a point of still considering myself to be a Christian even though not ceremonly confirmed to the religion. Maybe more so than many of those now supposed to be "confirmed".

Anyway, about that picture. It makes me laugh of some strange reason and I can't stop looking at my chest. Looks like I've got a substantial rack but I'm certain it's more bra than breast (maybe they only look big to me since it's more than a year ago I had them gone and longer since I was wearing a fucking bra!). That's what has changed the most over the years; the chest. Otherwise I look a lot the same, and in my own eyes I also look a lot like a DragQueen on this picture. It's cut so that I don't seem to have a weist (not that I've ever had much of one) and the top and the bra makes the breasts too big and unflattering (lol, as if I'd ever consider breasts to be flattering on me ;) almost as if they were fake. And that smile...looks funny somehow. It don't look pained as I imagine I felt in the situation and dressed like that even though it is tense, but it's more like I've got I private joke in mind. I'm trying to look happy for the photo of course but somehow I get the feeling I'm laughing about something else and trying to contain it. Or maybe it's just me laughing right now.

I was a clueless forteen-year-old. While some had been calling me a transvestite and lesbian for a long time allready or just considered me a freak in general I didn't know there was such a thing as transsexualism. I didn't even realize I would've prefered to have been born a boy. All I knew was that I prefered boy's clothes and hairstyle, but wasn't alowed to wear it. All I knew was that I had to say I hated boys and that they were ugly - because I couldn't let anyone know I secretely liked them both as friends and otherwise. Being percieved as gay or bi in such a small community I knew to be a bad thing- but didn't realize that since I was percieved as a girl it wouldn't be gay to them. Just clueless. Or not really; there were plenty of clues. It was rather a question of denial, wasn't it? Though I'm sure that a word such as "transsexual" would've helped pulling up the blinds...

And yet I'm strangely glad I never got the word until later. God knows what I'd done with it back then! I'd probably spat it in the face on everyone on that school, made me a new name and tried to force it and myself into acceptance. I don't want to know what would've happened then. In such a small community and all.

Yesterday was the Transgender Day of Rememberance, a day where we remember those who have died for being who they are, people who are killed because other people think they can't express or name themselves the way they feel comfortable with. Here's a horrible list of such brothers and sisters dying violent deaths around the world, just this past year, because some feel personally provoced and offended by our bodies. I realize I'm privilegied to live where I do and have the family and friends I have. I realize I am spoiled with love and acceptance. Not one mean word have I heard since I came out, not one. Never mind threats; I'm too sheltered to recieve any. It's unfair and it's wrong that people should fear for their lives just for being themselves.

That's one reason why pictures like the one above are unusual to find of a transperson. Of course, it's also because when people know of our background it's harder for us to be respected as "real" men or women even in rather tolerant countries like Sweden; we lose our otherwise obvious place in the gender order. The greatest objection to us is that we don't fit the pattern. Our bodies and minds don't add up the way it does for the majority and somehow that's so "wrong" it makes people crazy enough to enter the "red zone" also known as the "kill-kill-kill" zone that might result in 50 odd stab wounds. And then they call us "sick".