You're A Trany & You're Beautiful

by Val

(The Gender Centre advise that this article may not be current and as such certain content, including but not limited to persons, contact details and dates may not apply. Where legal authority or medical related matters are cited, responsibility lies with the reader to obtain the most current relevant legal authority and/or medical publication.)

Life as a trany is not an easy one, as you are all very much aware. Every day there is another challenge, hurdle, drama etc. But over all, speaking for ones self, it has been a strange and exciting experience for me. The past three or four years have seen extreme highs to extreme lows, a combination of the emotions and hormones I guess.

The days of trying to measure up to what everyone expected from me were going to be over as far as I was concerned. From now on I was going to be me.

It has been a long time coming for me to write this article, I first wondered what I would write about. So much has happened! Where do I begin? What do I write? So I decided to just put pen to paper and write what comes to mind. I have found that overall most tranys suffer the same dilemma; being trapped in a gender you don't feel happy with.

I was always a pragmatic person when it came to my situation. I knew I had to go through the "change", it was just that there was ... well, you know ... so much shit that came with it. Life was not all that wonderful three to four years ago and I just thought Oh Val, go for it girl ... do it! So off I toddled down to the Gender Centre to have my first talk with one of the counsellors. It was there, amongst other trannies, that for the first time in my life I felt like part of a group. Don't get me wrong, I was and still am a "people person" belonging to whatever group I choose to belong to, "killing" people with kindness and a smile. This was a habit I developed as a child; be ten times as nice to the average person and eventually 99% of the world will love you. It was a survival tactic I dreamed up and then perfected. I must say as a side note that it did help out a lot when I "cashed in my chips" and told everyone at work and home that I was transitioning my gender. I think in the long run it made life a lot easier. Sure there were the patronising comments such as "Well dear, if it makes you happy it's okay with me". Whoopy Doo! Who gives a poo what you think! I wasn't looking for approval any more, I was just telling them and that was that. The days of trying to measure up to what everyone expected from me were going to be over as far as I was concerned. From now on I was going to be me.

The first couple of times out in my new "mode" were very exciting (and yes, terrifying) for me. It was a really empowering experience to see men groveling around me. Gee Whiz! I thought to myself, this is cool! For all of these years, these kinds of guys were giving me a hard time for being an effeminate poof and now ... now they were at my mercy. The new found "power" was a buzz indeed, but along with the buzz came ... the shit. Little was I to know that being an attractive female now made me fair game for the insecure females of the world. You see, being a trany is one thing but being an attractive trany is another. I've got to say that this was a terrible down side for me because before living as an "effeminate gay guy" meant lots of girly friends. Now the tables had turned, I was now in another world where girls were being absolutely awful to me for no apparent reason. I was later to discover that it was jealousy, though at the time I found it extremely hard to believe. How could they be jealous of me? The girl who had a false start in life, the late runner! I found myself thrown into a catty world, something I've got to say I was definitely not prepared for.

The "tens times as nice" theory was definitely not helping me at all. I was clasping at straws trying to survive when it hit me "If you can't beat them, join them". So that was that, I became a ... superbitch! One for one, eye for an eye. Treating nice girls nicely and bitchy girls bitchily. I know it sounds awful but it was how I survived. In my observations I noted that women tend to be more into body language, giving you a look with certain facial and eye expressions, body movements etc. Men tended to be more openly aggressive and vocal. A generalisation some of you might say, but definitely something I noticed.

Some of you may read this and think "Gee ... who is this girl, she must think she's shit-hot or something". And guess what? I am! And so are many of you trany girls and boys. Don't you dare let anyone say otherwise! Sometimes I see trany girls working William Street or out and about on the town. I sit back and think "Geez, these girls are attractive and I'm so proud of them". For me a lot of tranys stand out because they're just too damn beautiful and carry themselves well. Something some insecure people cannot handle. Just remember our days are coming. As black people were once persecuted for being black and are now admired (look at Whitney Houston and Naomi Campbell). Our day is coming and people will no longer laugh, jeer or geek you. They will say "Wow, she's a trany and she is beautiful".

Polare is published in Australia by The Gender Centre Inc. which is funded by the Department of Community Services under the S.A.A.P. Program and supported by the N.S.W. Health Department through the AIDS and Infectious Diseases Branch. Polare provides a forum for discussion and debate on gender issues. Advertisers are advised that all advertising is their responsibility under the Trade Practices Act. Unsolicited contributions are welcome, though no guarantee is made by the Editor that they will be published, nor any discussion entered into. The editor reserves the right to edit such contributions without notification. Any submission which appears in Polare may be published on our internet site. Opinions expressed in this publication do not necessarily reflect those of the Editor, The Gender Centre Inc.I, the Department of Community Services or the N.S.W. Department of Health.