Saturday 21 November 2015

Happy Birthday Transpotting!



Well, here we are then. An entire year of this stuff. 52 weeks of constant unfiltered emotions, a roller coaster of feelings laid bare onto the screen for you to read.

What I'm trying to say is happy birthday Transpotting !


And what a year it has been. Last year I expected to write short posts here and there with a tiny readership but it's become much more than that. It's been a lifeline to the outside world and a chance for me to push myself further. I wouldn't have thought even at this time last year I would have started presenting as female in public, the idea was so far off in my mind but writing here has given me the confidence to be myself. I've attempted to be far more active in the trans circles too, since starting this page I've come into contact with some absolutely amazing individuals who help me day in day out. This page started as a way for me to vent my feelings, for a long time I thought I was the only person who identified this way but I now know that I'm not alone. And I hope in some way this blog has made others feel the same. It's become more than just a personal diary of sorts. A few years back I was totally unaware of this vast and exciting group of trans men and women kicking all sorts of butt online. More than anything though I've done something I never expected I would do. I started a vlog. I've put not only my face out there but now you can hear me, you can listen to my rather weird accent go on about feelings and stuff.

It's not all been sunshine and rainbows though. Being public with these sorts of details does open you up to a decent amount of abuse from a minority of small minded individuals. I've faced enough vile talk to last me a life time, this isn't about them though. This is our day !

I want to thank you all for the kind words of support this year. When when things get to me as they often do the odd comment here cheers me up greatly. Or when someone sends me a personal message saying how my words helped them through a difficult situation well, that makes it all worth it. I wish I could thank all of you individually, I wish I could throw a huge party and bring all of my visitors over for cake and cider, although I'd need a lot of cider :P

So. Grab the closest drink to hand and join me in a toast. Happy one year Transpotting. Here's  to many more :D

Charlotte xxx


Monday 2 November 2015

Grab your hair you've pulled

[TW - Transphobia, assault]

Despite feeling like I've aged about 30 years recently (thanks work) I still love going out on the weekend, I'm not a huge 'clubbing' person although I have found a few relatively inclusive bars and clubs that have kept me kind of safe since I started publicly presenting as female.

That kind of changed this weekend.

What happened may not sound on the outset like a particularly scary or new thing. Most of the people I've spoken to have experienced the same and in most cases far worse than what I've had. I don't want this to sound like a woe is me section when there are events that happen almost daily to trans people which eclipse this, after giving it some thought however I feel it's important to get this story out there. Even the smallest of incidents can have a profound effect on the rest of your life.

Anyway as you know this Saturday was Halloween, now this is probably my favourite annual event/day. Some people love Christmas, others love birthdays. But for me there's nothing better than the terrible commercialisation of modern Halloween. It's the worst, the tacky costumes, the awful films that end up on the TV. The insistence of every drinking establishment play both Ghostbusters and The Time Warp. It's terrible but I love it.

What was I saying? Oh yeah....

I try and make it a tradition to dress up as something for Halloween, but since I started presenting in public last November I've not had a chance to celebrate my favourite time of the year as me. I wanted to for now just go out as normal ass me. No costumes, not covered in fake blood and stuff. Just boring old regular Charlotte, so that's what I did.

Where I live has shall we say, a lively club scene. It's rarely empty on the weekends and nights like these are more manic than ever, I should have maybe thought about that a little more when thinking about where to go. I'm not a bar hopper sort of person. I pick a few, safe places and visit those (Usually free ones because I don't want to spend money to stand in a building with others :P). One of these places is supposedly an LGBT friendly bar. This bar does have some trans people on it's payroll last time I checked and it holds regular drag performances (For the record I'm not equating drag acts with trans people, simply stating that this particular bar has this sort of stuff going on). I honestly thought that, somewhere like this could at least make me feel welcome and safe. I should have known though that these places are far from trans inclusive when it comes to it's clientele.

Now, like everyone one else here. Sometimes I need to use the loo. It's just something that we all have to deal with, and being trans does pose it's own set of issues. This isn't the time or place to go into those because this isn't a WHERE DO I PEE blog. I know where I feel safest and that is in the womens (contrary to a blog a year ago where I felt like I wasn't ready to make that leap). Being genderfluid holds it's own set of issues though, since I present as two genders it can often feel like I'm doing something wrong by using a loo that fits the current gender that I am. I haven't started down the transition path yet, I'm still in the eyes of some people a guy who presents in the opposite gender. I try and put that to the back of my mind when out and if the occasion arises where I have to use the loo, I get in and out. No fuss, no bother. This time however it wasn't so easy. Being full of hen parties means that using the loo is like a fight for survival. If the hunger games was about a group of people fighting to use the one remaining toilet in a tacky nightclub then I think I'd be more interested. Well anyway polite as I am I let people go before blah blah blah, then it's my turn. Lock the door. DO MY THING. Instead of feeling safe however all I received was a load of abuse from outside. I'm not going to detail exactly what was being said but just know that it was horrible. Fortunately a group came to my defense and told them where to stick it. Shaken up I sat there for quite some time considering what my next move was going to be. I decided to try and shrug it off and just go back to enjoying myself, I was going to have a great time no matter what.

Well.....

Growing a bit weary of the bar I wanted to move on to somewhere else. It was getting on and I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Before going however I had to try and round up my friends who have this habit of doing their own thing on nights out, I have no problem with that obviously, what happened while I was rounding them up was the problem.

While moving my way across the dance floor I was, well there's no real way of putting this nicely. I was grabbed by a guy. He must have been like a million feet tall, either that or what he did made me feel like the smallest person in the world. He put his one arm in front of me stopping me from passing and pulled at my hair with his other. Regular readers will know that my gorgeous bangs aren't the work of my own but from a shop. Because of the work I'm in and also the need to present as two genders I keep my real hair short and then change between different hair styles as female. It works for me right now and it means I can change my look often. Well anyway as you can imagine having hair not attached to your actual cranium doesn't hurt when pulled but it does remove it. In the middle of a dance floor, in front of what felt like millions of people. I had my hair pulled off. Why? Well in this persons words.

"Mate, I wanted to check and see if you were a man or a chick"

And in that one moment, years of building and growth were instantly shattered. I felt weak, I felt like I was attacked for wanting to look a way I feel best represents me. I felt like I was something else.

I felt like a man.

And this has really hit me you know? I mean, it's not the worst thing that has happened to me. I've faced abuse before and have tackled it one way or the other. This time however I felt powerless, this person took every ounce of safety and power from me without a single fuck for my feelings. This person clearly felt that it was important to discover what my actual gender was through physical interaction. Perhaps they were confused, perhaps they kind of fancied me. Who knows ? What I do know is it's really shaken me to my core.

My confidence was shattered to such an extent I hid in the gents toilets and broke down I'd decided in that moment that this entire thing, being openly trans was not worth it. I was legitimately thinking to myself I should just quit while I had the chance. Since being more open I've felt sometimes like things have gotten away from me a little. I really do need to feel in control of my own life and sometimes, if for example I bump into someone I know who wasn't aware that can cause problems, and the need to watch my every move just in case something bad may happen. All these things snowballed together into one massive lump of fear within me, and I just couldn't face it.

So there I was, few hours later. I'd not even attempted to get involved with the rest of my night out. I decided instead to sit by myself for a while outside in the little smoking area in the next bar we were at, thinking about what I was going to do next when my friends came out. Stood alongside me and chatted. I told them that I was feeling like giving things up, I could handle hurting myself if that meant nobody else could. Then my friend said something which made me think. It wasn't anything profound, just a few short words.

"You need to be you".

And you know what? He is right. Why should I hurt myself because of others? Why should I fear what people might think and do when the other alternative is to suppress my own feelings. I am me, I am Charlotte. And no meat head arse hole who gives comment or touches my person is going to change that. He can think I'm a man all he wants. But in doing so shows how little a man they really are

This is me, and nobody should get in the way of that.