Some of my most recent posts have been about how important it is that trans (mtf) people tell their girl friends – so that the journey can be shared, and the whole process becomes a celebration rather than a burden or a secret. But what about telling men? I’m up to three now – but it’s a lot harder than telling the girls. Why?!
Telling my girl friends I’m trans has been more wonderful than I ever could have imagined. I’ve been selective which ones I’ve told – and picked women I know to be open-minded.
Every single one has been supportive and has loads of questions about it all, eager to educate themselves more on the topic. I’ve been clothes and wig shopping with one, I have at least five coming to my make-up party next month, and my ballet teachers positively encourage leotards, tights and now skirts.
It’s been Girl Power all the way. I’ve even told my little sister – though I’ll write more on that in a future post. Suffice to say, it went well.
It’s relatively easy to open up to women about being transgender. As a rule, women have loads more empathy than men, they’re more sensitive and are, on the whole, far better listeners and talkers.
It’s also loads easier to go to them with queries over which makeup brush to use for bronzer – or where to go for the best lingerie or couture.
But men are from Mars and women are from Venus, as the saying goes. I suppose that also means non-binary people are from Earth, so that’s good.
If you want to talk about football or motorbikes, men are your man, as it were. Of course, plenty of women like the beautiful game, and many more will don their bike leathers of a Sunday afternoon.
But, generally speaking, blokes like to talk about more basic stuff like that. When it comes to talking about feelings, emotions and their feminine sides, most of them are relatively silent.
Which makes it really, really fucking hard to tell them that you like to wear knickers and bras – and wanna grow boobs pretty soon!
Fortunately, I have some ace male friends and, though it wasn’t easy, I’ve now fessed up to three of them.
The first was Tom, whom I first met at school in 1985. I wrote a little over a year ago about telling him I’m trans – but I was called up for my go on the karaoke seconds later and then it was never mentioned again.
I then told his other half, Michelle, about the blog, and she asked if Tom could read it. I said OK and never heard anything back – this was two or three weeks or so ago.
But then I got a message today on Facebook Messenger…
Just letting you know I read your blog (hope that’s ok, chap!) – honoured to call you my mate, and if you ever want a chat, let me know. You’re my best buddy.
I came out to my mate Bob a few weeks ago, as also written about before. That was loads easier because it turned out he’s also trans – and we were both shitfaced on beer.
And then there’s Bevan, who I think I’ve mentioned before in passing. His other half is Natasha, who’s known about my trans side for many years.
She asked the other day if she could tell Bevan – and show him this blog. So I said yes again. In a way, it’s easier if Natasha/Michelle tells Bevan/Tom the detail – saves me the awkwardness.
So then I got a few drunken but very sweet texts from Bev…
You have always been a good mate to me and nothing has changed… Nothing wrong with being trans as long as you can be yourself and express yourself. It does not matter what colour your skin or if you wear a frock now and again. I always knew there was something. Most people can see the feminine side… I’m sure most people will understand but the ones that don’t don’t matter. I also understand it may be harder for family to understand and accept. You are a good person with a kind heart. Just seen photo – you look good, girl!
He he! Yeah, I love that photo. But it’s not going on the blog. Maybe one day, but not yet.
I think, with Tom and Bevan, it helps that they have very, very liberal partners. Michelle and Bevan are 100% behind the LGBT+ movement, hate bigots and are sworn feminists.
In terms of telling other men, I have no plans to tell anyone else. I was pretty sure Tom, Bevan and certainly Bob would be OK with my news – but other pals are more tricky to gauge – mainly because they don’t talk about their feelings or emotions.
The thought of telling the boys down the pub or the football ground fills me with dread. I know that some would be OK but that some would think I was a freak of the highest order. The ridicule would be unbearable, and I’d never be able to return there.
So yeah, it’s tricky. Also, maybe my female side is to the fore when I’m with women, whereas my male side is prominent when I’m with men – so maybe I don’t talk about such matters either, and I’m more happy to natter on about beer, football or music instead of clothes, makeup and ballet.
I can’t imagine ever talking to Tom or Bevan about the pros and cons of underwires, the latest foundation shades or how to pull off a mean grand dégagé. But it’s great to know they accept me for who I am – and that I don’t need to hide my undies every time they come round now.
Thanks, guys. If you ever want to know anything, just ask away.