Finally Dana

Trigger warning- trans-phobic and homophobic slurs, explicit language. 

I was called a “fucking tranny” today. I can’t shake it. I’m fortunate in that I’ve never been called that particular slur. I have been called a faggot a few times. In fact, being called a faggot was one of the first things that made me think there was something wrong with me as a child. It drove me into the closet and started me on my path of pretending to be a man. Being called a faggot was one experience of many, but the power of that word has echoed throughout my life. 

I told myself it was my fault I was called a faggot by my friends. I was acting too effeminate, I needed to like guns and the army and play rough. So I did. I didn’t hate my experiences, I still like to play sports and climb trees, but I made choices to flee from that word. I was convinced that it was my fault and I would fix it. 

Today I was driving home and a man on a bike flicked me off. I was probably driving a little fast, but I don’t really know why he did it. Of course, I returned the rude gesture. He followed me the remaining two blocks to my home. I rolled down the window and he said “did you flick me off?” and I replied, “you flicked me off first!” Then he called me a fucking tranny.

I was angry. Generally, my first response is on the fight side of fight or flight so I told him to fuck off, after which he repeated the slur and biked away. It wasn’t until later that it started to eat away at me. It echos in my mind and it won’t go away. 

The really messed up part is that I keep blaming myself. 

I am fortunate that I generally pass after my surgery. It has been an absolute blessing and I am grateful every day. My voice is a different story. I hate my voice, it gives me away and it makes me hate myself. An asshole today called me a tranny after he heard me speak. If only I sounded like a woman if only I was better. I have taken hours of speech therapy but I am failing. 

It was my fault.

Logically I know it wasn’t. My friends can all tell me that I’m beautiful and strong. My logical brain can as well, but I can only think about what I did wrong. Where I failed. Where I proved that I wasn’t a “real” woman. I hear the same thoughts echoing in my mind every time someone calls me “he” or “him.” I spiral into self-recrimination as I think about all the ways I failed. 

Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and it will all be fine. I will look in the mirror and see a smart, confident woman, but tonight I see a tranny. I see someone who is playing at being a woman. I see the person some random asshole wanted me to see. I gave him power over me, and despite knowing that his opinion means nothing, his words have shaken me. 

Words have power. Maybe if I use that power I can overcome this. Instead of constantly telling myself that it’s my fault, I will tell myself that it not me, it’s them. I won’t believe it, but maybe I will eventually convince myself. 

I am Dana. I am a woman. If you don’t like it, you can fuck right off.