Learning to swim

This was a reply to someone on the SCCLounge about their difficulties meeting people at the convention. I think it also applies to people getting out in general...

I'm not a "Big Sister," though I do seem to find the newbies and point them in the right directions all the time. Not just at SCC, but in my own city. And this is going to sound harsh, but I mean it in the most sincere, most caring way...

If you're upset about not making connections, it's your fault. You're at the largest gathering of transpeople in the world, surrounded by hundreds of people like yourself. The most understanding group you'll ever meet, because they know exactly how you feel.

Did you go to any of the meals? You could have talked to the people you were sitting with. Did you go to any of the seminars? You had lots of opportunities to ask questions or talk to someone. What about just going to the lobby or the bar? 

Need a topic? I tell people I love what they're wearing-that's how I found one of by best friends! Trust me, we all love a compliment and say they like our style. Or, if I'm in a seminar and someone asks a good question, I tell them afterward. I've met people over dinner, listening to their conversations and asking questions. 

Okay, yes, I'm THAT Zelda so people are always walking up to me. But I wasn't so well known when I first came to SCC. What I was was a shy, insecure girl. I could have stayed in my room, but I didn't. Because I would rather get out there and fail than die by inches alone...

And yes, I really am shy. Horribly so. I am insecure about how I look, I worry about that I'll say something stupid, or I'll have someone scream "It's a dude!" at me from across a room. 

But I eventually look at myself in the mirror and I'm the best looking Zelda I can be. I'll say stupid things, then laugh at myself and people think it's just me being me. And people don't scream at you, unless they're drunk and on Bourbon Street. 

I guess what I'm trying to tell you is, you have to do it. You have to look at yourself and love yourself and realize that you're the person who has to push you out there. You have to push yourself, because this is important. Every one of us faced what you did-feeling alone and unwanted. But we also decided that we weren't going to stay that way.

Courtney, I do wish I'd seen you at SCC. Because I'd have told you to step up to the diving board, and jump. 

Because you can swim, dear. And you'll swim just fine. 

xoxo

Zelda Rose

Pass GO, collect your life

There is a discussion on passing on the SCCLounge, which I moderate. One of the questions was about people who don't care if they do or do not pass, and I wrote:

I do not know if I represent "the other side" but do know I'm not overly concerned with being "passable" or "blending" when I go out. But I do think I make a pretty good Zelda.

I am over six feet tall and am not in the WNBA. I can't shop at Bebe or Forever 21-I'm a Lane Bryant and Torrid girl. I've got a few miles on the clock, which I am reminded of daily. And my personal style varies from Goth girl to casual funk to damned near soccer mom.

Okay, this one time, at SCC I went to the mall with a really nice, very cute and feminine tgirl. It was a Saturday afternoon, with lots of people shopping. We spent about an hour and a half in the mall, shopping and talking and in general enjoying ourselves. As we were leaving, this girl asked me "How do you stand it?"

"Stand what?" I said, wondering what had happened.

"The stares," she replied with a slightly concerned look on her face.

"What stares?" I replied. Which took her by surprise. After all, I *had* to be worried about having been "clocked" as a tgirls! Right?

Well, no. I had not paid attention to other people's reactions to me. I had not been looking around to see who had or had not been looking at me. Because it did not matter. I wasn't looking for other people's valitation, or for their acceptance or lack of it. I just was there, another person shopping in the mall.

I do know that the vast majority of people tend not to really say or do anything when they see me. Either I register as another woman in their mind, or they know something is different about me but they don't care enough to stop and take another look, or they know exactly what I am but it is not an issue for them. A handfull will take a second or longer look at me. They may say something to the person they are with, or not. They may smile at me, smirk knowingly, giggle, frown, or something else. And once in a blue moon, someone will actually make a remark to me or at me.

And I accept that those are all possibilities. But I do not let them discourage me. What I *do* is to go out and be myself. Because I have the choice of staying at home, woried that I am not going to blend or pass and trap myself in my own closet. Or, I accept who I am and just, well, do it.

I do feel comfortable with who I am-and that make a lot of difference. It's far more likely that you'll blend into the crowd if you feel like you belong there rather than feel like you're an outsider. Passing? That's good genes and/or medicine, and the ablilty to totally get rid of everything stereotypically male you can.

But for me, I'll just be the best Zelda I can be.

Kids say the darndest things

Seven year old Jazz's thoughts on being transgendered:



Somehow she says far more in a few seconds that makes sense than a lot of us ever do.

Fear is the mindkiller. And it looks terrible in pumps.

An SCC post soon, but for now...

Someone on a local mailing wrote about going to an event at the Galleria and having a great time. And then some little kid "clocked*" her. She felt very bad afterward, so wrote:

Zelda came of age in New Orleans, in the French Quarter. The locals are great people; they don't care about your eccentricities; they do care about the kind of person you are. If you don't bother them...

Tourists, however.

Ever notice how some people leave home and decide that the rules of decorum and manners aren't important anymore? Exactly. I have had people scream "It's a guy in a dress" at me. I had a lit cigarette tossed at me (it missed). I have been treated rudely, stared at, pointed at, whispered about.

I should have run back to the hotel, crying, tearing off my dress and wiping the makeup off, promising I will never do this again. I didn't. It just pissed me off at first. Then, I realized that I really did not CARE what they thought of me. I was happy with myself, and that was what mattered.

Since then, I have been all over the country. I have had people make remarks, but that has gotten rarer. I went to the mall last year with a tgirl, and when we were leaving she asked me how I could stand the staring. I had not even noticed...

Do I look better now than I used to? Yes. Am I more "passable?" Whatever that means. Do I have a lot more confidence in myself, feel like I belong anyplace I reasonably want to be, not give a f**k what the tourists think? Oh, yes!

So, one kid clocking you is just little thing. You just go on with the day...

Sometimes you really just need to get on with it. Because when you let others limit you, it's putting you back into another closet.

And I'm no closet queen anymore.

* Clocked-Having someone notice that you're not a cisgendered female. They may just stare, or do something else that makes you know that they know.