Losing My Voice to Find My Voice
I’d had a stomach ache most of the day. I just needed a
moment to be sick – finally I stole a moment. The only gender neutral bathroom
was clear on the other side of hospital far away from my office. I stood,
momentarily Transfixed. Looking at the two bathrooms, I glanced at the one with
the “man” on the door. I knew this bathroom-I’d used it for years. Then again,
I am wearing a skirt today—my mind wandered back to a few days ago. Watching a
man do a double take as he was walking into that bathroom at the same moment I
was walking out. I’m not sure how people perceive me anymore --- I feel like I
look pretty. Yet I’m still getting misgendered frequently. Somehow the “boy”
bathroom no longer felt safe for me. Even if I was gendered as male I was a
male in a skirt – something that has never been safe. – Sigh--- Ok take a deep
breath. I tentatively pushed open the door to the “girl” one. Nobody inside ---
it’s one stall and a sink. This feels safe. I take a chance, hoping I’ll be
unnoticed and find sweet relief. It works, for a moment then someone comes in.
They (most likely she) take a peek and see I am in there and leave. I breathe a
sigh of relief. That was close. I am
unwell and my business takes a while to Transact. Meanwhile this individual
checks on the toilet nearly every minute they/she eventually get frustrated and
start shaking the stall door. Oh shit (sorry couldn’t help the pun) – I want so
badly to tell her to try for one of the other women’s rooms not too far away. I
ache to say something to, tell her to leave me alone because I am sick. My
heart pounds in my chest and my voice is silent. I know that I’ll be found out
the moment I speak. That’s the last thing I want is for this impatient person
with the irrational attachment to this particular bathroom to know that the
person she is waiting on has a deep voice --- and because of that voice this
person doesn’t belong in this bathroom. Oddly she is silent too. Neither of us
ever exchange word. Eventually she leaves and I safely creep out and sneak back
to my office doing my best not to be seen.
This was not the first time I found myself scared (perhaps
ashamed) of my voice. It is possibly one the most dramatic experiences I’ve had
regarding my voice. Generally speaking I haven’t given my voice much thought.
That is to say I don’t feel like I’ve ever had dysphoria about my voice. This
particular has come hand in hand with my attempts to be perceived as a feminine
person socially. This fear or dissonance – I’m struggling to find the right
word for it – showed up the instant I started trying to be perceived as
feminine in social settings. I had been experimenting with wearing dresses and
make up around the house for months and had finely gotten brave enough to venture
out of the house. I got all dolled up in my favorite of my wife’s dresses, did
my makeup and even stuffed one of my wife’s bras. I thought I looked amazing!
Then I went grocery shopping. This was my second time out en femme. The first
time was to a local coffee shop known to be a gathering place for the local
LGBTQ community. This trip was decidedly more cis – more square, less safe.
People in the store were generally nice to me. I like to imagine that they were
smiling at me under their masks (people were still wearing masks at the time).
Everything seemed to be going swimmingly until I pulled up to the checkout
stand. The cashier greeted me. “Good evening ma’am.” My heart sored and the butterflies in my
stomach did backflips. This was the first time any one had ever called me
ma’am. It all quickly came crashing down from as a quick realization settled
over me. You have to say something back. My heart sank and settled squarely in
my throat and the butterflies in my tummy changed into a very different kind of
butterfly. The little voice in my head quickly screamed. “No don’t talk you’ll
break the spell!” immediately followed by “who on earth do you think your
fooling you don’t pass. This guy had you clocked a mile away” --
isn’t internal dialogue fun? I quietly returned his greeting – good evening and
did my best to scurry away. Everyone was very polite and my first venture into
the “real world” was a success. I would remain self-conscious about my voice
for quite some time though.
Eventually, I did find my voice. It is a new voice one that
is much more authentic. Sometimes it is bold and strong. Others it is shaky,
uncertain, and self-conscious. No matter
what, it is my voice and I love it. I love the discovery journey I am on. My
current stance toward my voice is best summed up by the first verse to one of
my favorite Grateful Dead songs.
“If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near as it were your own?
It's a hand-me-down, the
thoughts are broken
Perhaps they're better left unsung
I don't know, don't really care
Let there be songs to fill the air” – (“Ripple” - Jerry
Garcia / Robert Hunter)
I did not find my voice on my own. It took a community a
tribe if you will. One of the paradoxes of being Trans is that it is an
identity that is simultaneously highly person and in ways private AND
incredibly public. I suppose all identities are this way. I Transitioned for
myself not for anyone else. I am not doing this to impress anyone else and on
some level I don’t care what people think about it. And yet . . . I desperately
want to be perceived and treated as the gender I experience myself as. One of
the reasons I Transitioned was to alter my social standing to change the way I
navigate the world. Other people failing to acknowledge the change in many ways
would nullify and invalidate the change. This is one of the many paradoxes of
my life. One of the primary therapeutic modalities I use (read that as one of
the major influence son my world view) is Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT).
At the heart of DBT is the assumption that life I built out of seemingly opposing
points of view (paradoxes) and truth is found when we are able to find the
“middle path” by synthesizing the two opposing truths. My favorite dialectic is
acceptance and change or as I like to talk about it “I am ok just the way I am”
and “I am working to be a better me”. This is how I navigate this things is
realizing it is “Both/And” not “Either/Or” and learning to hold both truths for
myself.
Not surprisingly, I
found the courage to claim my voice through processes that simultaneously
intensely personal and intensely public, Spiritual Community and Punk Rock. I suppose some might call that the dialectic
of sacred and the profane. Not me though – I will argue the spiritual validity
and sacredness of punk rock until the day I die. To me they are two sides of
the same coin --- I suppose that is a different essay though.
Right around the time I started to publicly Transition, I
was invited to join a community that practices indigenous spirituality (before
you send me hate mail about cultural appropriation, notice I said I was invited
– I am asking you to trust me that what I am doing is condoned by tribal elders
and done with the deepest respect.). The heart of my practice with this
community has the sweat lodge. My first night at lodge I sat with the beginners
and listened to the fire keeper’s instructions. My heart sank when he explained
to me that the lodge would be divided into men and women. I leaned close –and whispered
“and what about those of us that don’t fit those categories?” “Pick whichever one feels best”. I lined up with the women – I was so done
pretending to be a man. The woman ahead of me in line was so sweet and
supportive. She had grown up in the Lakota tradition and had been asked to
assist the water pourer in leading lodge. She took me under her wing and taught
me some of the finer points of praying in the lodge. We all crawled into lodge
together. And I sat there among the women. The majority of the time in the
lodge is spent singing sacred medicine songs. I love my singing voice. Growing
up I sang in high school and church choirs and even took some vocal lessons. At
one point I aspired to sing Opera. I have a very beautiful baritone voice. Yet
I was self-conscious about singing this time. I was the loan baritone sitting
among these strong amazing sopranos and altos. Yet none of them seemed to care.
No one was grumpy with me for singing an octave lower than them right in their
ear. There are a few key moments in lodge where we are invited to discuss the
things we are praying for. I took the opportunity to talk about my Transition
and the support I was looking for. These women I admired all took me in as if I
were one of their own. I couldn’t believe it I was one of the girls. This was
the first time in my life I got to experience sisterhood. I had no idea that
this is what I had been missing and wanting my whole life. The experience of
belonging and being accepted gave me the courage to stand on my own two feet
and speak my truth. Regardless, of how the broader world looked at me I knew
that there was some where people could embrace me as I was. That also meant
that there were more people in the world who could do the same.
Don’t worry I did not forget about the punk rock part. I
cannot recall how Laura Jane Grace entered my life. I do recall that she shook
me to my core and inspired me from the moment I first heard her voice. She is
the lead singer for the band Against Me!. Listening to their album “Transgender
Dysphoria Blues” was the first time I had ever encountered art that spoke so
directly to my experiences. Laura was singing about my insecurities and pains and
doing so with incredible power and pride. You must hear Laura Jane Grace’s
voice to really understand what I am talking about (If you haven’t heard her I
highly recommend that you take a moment ant listen https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NFz_uWapX_0).
She has a powerful baritone voice. Yes baritone just like mine. Her vocals are
a masterful blend of a melodic wail and classic punk yell. When I heard her
souring voice proclaim “God bless your Transsexual heart.” My heart sang out “Yes
Queen! I am a True Trans soul Rebel.” I was home with my tribe. I went on to
read Laura Jane’s memoir and to familiarize myself with her full musical catalog.
I learned that she dropped out of high school and worked tooth and nail to
build her band to a respectably modest success against all odds, and her
community turning their back on her. Finally, after obtaining major label
contracts and touring alongside household names she Transitioned and started
living full time as a woman. She came out to the world in Rolling Stone
Magazine with the endorsement of Joan Jett – does it get much cooler than that?
Here was someone one who was a parent and a successful career person who Transitioned
despite the potential to lose it all. I was not alone as a late bloomer. One of
the best parts, for me at least, was that Laura Jane did not change her voice.
She kept her signature baritone intact and unchanged. If that worked for her,
maybe it could work for me. I recently
had the privilege of seeing Laura Jane Grace perform live. I met her and she
signed a book for me. My wife, who accompanied me, had two big take a ways from
seeing her live. 1. She is really pretty – she is - and 2. Holy cow she can
sing. Her voice easily overpowered other performers. She was Trans and proud of
it and ready to scream/sing it to the whole world. Her boldness emboldened me.
Me and Laura Jane Grace.
I am a therapist at an inpatient psychiatric hospital where I work with teenagers, many of whom are Trans. On an almost daily basis I have to call parents I have never met and schedule family therapy. “Hi my name is Dr. Marcy Porritt. I say in my distinctly baritone voice. I am finally proud of my voice. Proud to be who I am and happy to stand out as obviously Trans. There is another half of this conversation I have intentionally left out for now. The story of the nearly 36 years of silence, self-denial and self-betrayal I endured before I even started Transitioning. There is a catchphrase in the queer community-“My existence is resistance.” I’ve come to hold that idea near and dear to my life. I hope that somehow my existence may in some ways normalize Trans people. I hope that me “singing my song” will help Trans folx to know they are not alone and cis folks to know that Trans folx are perhaps not as scary as we have been made out to be.
This blog is the next step in that journey. Not too long ago
an old friend posted a meme from a popular comedian ridiculing Trans teens who
seek to medically Transition. Something was just right about the situation and
I felt the need to speak out. What ensued was what I hope was a courteous
discussion about the validity of Trans identities and the importance of Trans
affirmative medical care. My goal in that moment was to help people to
understand what the Trans experience is like and to somehow humanize the
headlines and political talking points. I believe that my intersection of my
identities as a doctor of clinical psychology and a non-binary Transfeminine person
(or maybe a Trans woman – depends on the day you ask me) allow me a unique
perspective that blends both personal experience and professional expertise. My
goal here is to carry on that intention and address a number of the things
people brought up in that discussion. One last reason for starting this blog is
to follow through on the encouragement the dear therapist who walked beside me
during the bulk of my Transition up to this point. She constantly told me that
I needed to write and encouraged me to educate and advocate. So Alie here goes nothing.
To you dear reader, my goal here is not to debate and
compete but rather to educate and inform. I hope to make the Trans experience
accessible and human beyond all the sensational things you hear and see.
Questions and comments are certainly welcome and I hope to have some great
discussion here. I just hope to avoid debating with people who already have
their minds made up. I aspire to create a respectful and open community and I
know that this will take all of us.
Finally, one last disclaimer, there are as many ways to be Trans
as there are Trans folx. Please take my writing for what it is - the musings of
one decently informed Trans lady. I do not speak for the community as a whole.
When I write here I am speaking of my own story, singing my own song. I guarantee
that you will be able to find Trans voices that contradict me and encourage you
to do so. After all variety is the spice of life.
Thanks for reading and I hope to see you soon.
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