Yesterday I went to my bank to deposit some money. Out of the three tellers, I just happened to get the male one. Either he thought I was a vision of loveliness (probably not) or having a real live transgender woman in the bank was a relief from his normal day to day activities.
At any rate, the questions came fast, furious and friendly. Did I do most of my banking on line, was my day going good and was I sure there was nothing else I could be helped with? I was almost embarrassed. After all, how exciting is a trip to the grocery store anyway? Plus, yes I did live this way and just didn't put on makeup and women's clothes to go to the bank and run errands. He didn't ask that, of course.
I'm sure though, I shouldn't complain. It wasn't so long ago I was filled full of angst with the thought of even going out in public, let alone communicating with anyone.
As much as I want to be recognized as simply an attractive woman, more than likely, the idea of another person seeing me as a trans girl sometimes is just as satisfying.
In fact on Facebook, I just commented on a person's post who has complained about not wanting to be called transgender at all. She hates the community and pretty much all it stands for. That's all well and good, everyone is entitled to their opinion but it is akin to throwing the baby out with the dish water. After all, one of the big reasons no one knows much about the trans community is because of all the so called transsexuals who transitioned years ago and disappeared. And, like any other community, not all the peeps are pleasant.
We all grew up being someone. Just because that someone happened to be male doesn't make you or him all bad. With all the suicide going on in the LGBT community (especially the 'T') we need visible survivors to prove to the world we can make it and prosper.