Accidental Moments: Testing, Passing, Spacing
I managed to accidently get tested for HIV. I was sitting in my three-month appointment, and we were going over my blood tests, and we were talking about STIs. He asked when the last time I was tested for HIV, I said high school, and he basically said at some point soon I should get tested again, but since I’m so low risk (sleeping predominantly with women) that I didn’t need to worry about it. “Oh, nevermind. You’re HIV negative. Apparently I had you tested.”
Well, thanks? I mean, good to know, but next time let me know a little more obviously, okay?
Regardless, I’m finally up to a full dose of testosterone. The changes will come faster, my period should stop. I can become the adult I’ve always wanted to be, a strange conglomeration of truth and lie. For me, passing in all its problems is the reality. Because the person I want to come is someone who passes, who seems to be another able-bodied, white, straight, secular male. Not because I want to occupy the space of white men in American society, but because the body that is most me seems to be all those things, but I am so much more. People who look at me don’t see my ADHD, they will not see that I was raised as a girl who was good in math, who played sports, that tomboy was the first identity I ever embraced. They won’t see the history of activism, the kinky desires, if they see my desires they will probably see me dating women, as that is who I tend to go for. I will pass, and here it is the term passing, because I will pass for something I am not. I am white, but not a man. But the ability to pass as a man will be power I have, and something I can use in radical ways.
There are spaces where only women are allowed. Some, are only “women born women,” excluding transwomen. Some explicitly make sure to include transwomen, and some even include transmen. Basically some of these spaces boil down to less a woman’s space and more “No Cis-males allowed.” Which in and of itself is incredibly problematic, but what is worse is that those spaces are still needed. Those spaces really boil down to spaces of no “male privilege” (which doesn’t address the other forms of privilege there, surrounding race, class, abledness, age, etc.) because there is an extent to which banning cis-men is the only way people see that it is possible to create such a space. But many people hold male privilege, not just men, and not all men hold male privilege. Until those lines are more blurred there really is no way to distinguish though. That is one of those assumptions that I really seek to help upset. Just… so much to do. Because I’m one of those people who isn’t content to just let things be, because “the status is not quo” I need to do something with my changing positionality of power. As time goes on, and I pass more, I need to start learning how to function as a(n apparent) guy, and a straight one no less. Well, I read very gay… so maybe I won’t have to jump that hurdle just yet.
Last night, a friend I haven’t seen in a month asked if I was sick, had a sore throat. “No…” And then we realized, my voice is finally changing that much. C commented that she noticed in the voicemail I left that my voice was lower. I’ve been noticing as I (attempt and fail to) sing. It is really great, but it is definitely strange to listen to myself.