Club Men

At least one good thing has come from me coming out to my friends about being trans: guys who were already buddy-buddy with me have given me an open invite into the boy’s club. This invitation is complete with crude, immature comments, rougher-than-necessary slaps on the back, farts (and their accompanying jokes), and the 100% awkwardness that comes with straddling the line of male-bonding and homosexual tendencies. Nice. It almost seems as if the behavior was somehow these male friends mocking their own maleness to make me feel comfortable, which is nice in a very strange sort of way. I think it’s also a reflection of how some are subconsciously forced to redefine their own maleness as they assess mine. Recently, I have learned many things, but the foremost lessons to learn is: there will always be someone who knows more about being a man than you. At least, he thinks he does. Almost everyday at work, one of the guys I work with comes up with some dumbass rule that I must learn, insisting that he will teach me how to be a proper guy. “You’re not supposed to remember birthdays. That’s just not what us guys do,” or “Guys don’t eat veggies. They eat steak!” or “No, really, guys are supposed to slap each other on the ass!” or my favorite, “What the hell are you doing?!? You’re not supposed to be braiding So-and-So’s hair! That’s not what guys DO!!!!” (I actually was French braiding my co-worker’s hair during down time… cause we were that bored. LOL.)

But going from girls to guys, the conversations I have with friends really hasn’t changed too much. The guys pick their body fat and pull clothes in different places, swearing off this food or that, promising to start this or that workout or diet… the concern with body image doesn’t change. Just the willingness to expose said vulnerability changes. Then there’s crushes. There’s still that same reluctance to reach out to members of the opposite sex (or same sex, depending on the individual) that people find attractive. Girl’s checking out guy, guy’s checking out girl, both are too afraid to say anything so nothing gets said. ARGH, people! Let’s see, what else… driving. Girls aren’t better or worse drivers. Of my dearest friends, I would say everyone either sucks or is decent in a very non-gendered sort of way. Girls’ overall hygiene tends to be better (or, some guys just need to change up their routines cause their present ones aren’t working! And what’s the deal with not shaving or having horrible haircuts?!? Guys, take pride in yourselves. You owe it to yourselves and the girl you hope to approach to look and smell nice!)

I’ve only had one guy ask me about surgery… and it wasn’t so much casual ‘asking’ as it was a CIA interrogation. I was expecting water boarding if I didn’t provide more detail! I let him connect many of the dots (since we were standing in the parking lot of a bar and I didn’t exactly have my PowerPoint slides to provide graphic support.) A couple of weeks later, we were at the mall and I kept complaining that I wanted to leave because I had to go to the bathroom (which I would have preferred to do in the privacy of my apartment, and not in a public bathroom.) But, it got to the point that once he left me to go, I felt stupid holding it anymore. I followed him in a few seconds later. We were the only two in the bathroom (thank God!) and he was already standing at the urinal when I walked in. To my complete surprise, he just kind of laughed at my reluctance to come inside, and proceeded to pee as I entered the stall to do the same. So how does that feel hanging out with a female-bodied dude who’s sitting down to pee in a stall next to where you, a male-bodied dude, are standing to pee? I don’t know, and I didn’t really ask. But as we both went to wash our hands, he probably noticed how surprised I was with how cool he was about it. He made some kind of joke like, “It’s really not a big deal. This isn’t Boys Don’t Cry, you know.” But I didn’t know. Sure, there are lots of douche bag men out there. But as far as I’m concerned, there are just as many uncool ladies out there too. So at least if I have good, open-minded (and open-hearted!) friends, I feel like I can pee in peace.

And with all it alienness, I’m happy to be a novice in Club Men.


Author’s side note: I was at the mall with my baby sister and our mom the other weekend. They were looking at shoes and I was alternating between trying to claw my own face off as a means to escape and suggesting different shoes, seeking that delicate balance that ‘real men’ apparently have when shoe shopping with their lady friends. As I felt more comfortable, I stopped caring what other people around me were thinking (only the true egotistical even think that others are even concerned with what they’re doing…) and I forgot the image I was trying to present. She held up a pair of high, pearl-colored heels and I was like, “Hey. I used to have a pair of shoes just like those. Remember?” and the lady standing only a couple of feet from us looked at me with the most innocent, confused (trying to be subtle) face, looked down at her own shoe in deep thought, and walked away. We cracked up laughing as soon as she left. “Yes, there are some things I need to be more mindful before mentioning.”