Foxglove
02-03-2013, 06:42 AM
When I see myself I ask: “What do others think they see?”—Antonio Porchia
Hi, Guys and Girls!
As far as I know, Antonio Porchia wasn’t trans, so his question might mean something slightly different to us than it would to him. I think he’d be OK with that, though.
A few days ago I reported having bought a full-length mirror, the first one I’ve ever owned. I hesitated to buy the thing because I feared it might be a mistake in a way. And so it’s turned out.
Yesterday when I was in town, I decided to have a look in one of the second-hand shops, and I found a dress that’s absolutely perfect. It fits like it was made for me. It’s light blue (a good color for me), buttons up the front and is belted at the waist. It has a collar, long sleeves that button at the wrists and a pleated skirt that comes down to my calves. Exactly my sort of thing, very comfortable to wear—and I paid a whopping €4 for it.
So this morning I put on my new dress and was admiring myself shamelessly in my new mirror—tossing my head and intoning, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s Miss Fancy Pants now?” And the mirror rolled its eyes heavenward.
But it got me to thinking about some things that have been discussed on this forum recently: people have been hurting because they’ve been laughed at or they’ve overheard some unkind remarks about transpeople. And I got to thinking about the man who delivered my new mirror to me.
He’s a fellow I’ve known casually for years. In the old days, in the drab years B.A. (Before Annabelle), he owned a little bicycle shop, so I bought this and that from him and got him to do the odd repair. He eventually closed the shop and now works at the supermarket where I bought the mirror. So he was the one who brought me my mirror.
When I opened my front door, I was greeted by a big, mocking smile on his face. Says he, “Is this Annabelle?” And I said yes, took my mirror, thanked him politely and closed the door on his jeering mug. He was laughing at me—and I didn’t care in the least. It made absolutely no impression on me. It didn’t ruin my day. It was like water off a duck’s back.
Because we can learn things from people like Antonio Porchia. What the delivery man saw is nothing like what I see in my mirror. Unlike me, he can’t see every day and every minute of my life. He can’t see what I’ve lived through. He can’t see what’s going on in my heart. He can’t see what a new dress or a new way of life means to me.
When I look in my mirror, that's what I see. I see all of that--and that's why I can toss my head and grin and make a fool of myself out of pure, overflowing joy. But because he can’t see any of that, his laughter and judgement don’t mean a thing. Only I can truly judge—let others misjudge out of ignorance if they will.
As I was telling a friend of mine not long ago, recently I’ve been feeling proud. I’m not proud of being trans. That’s simply what I am and I can’t see it’s a matter of pride. No, what I’m proud of is that after many, many years of stupidity and cowardice and “the fear and trembling and sickness unto death”, I’ve finally laid claim to what I am. This is me: this is the ground where I’ll plant my flag, and this is the ground that I will defend. And I’m proud of transpeople, because like every group of people on this earth we have a cross to bear, and bearing a cross is something that strong people do.
This is something I need to remember because I’m as thin-skinned as they come: the others can’t see what we see. When you understand their short-sightedness and when you truly lay claim to yourself with pride, it gives you a weapon that’s greater than strength: it’s called “indifference”. It’s called “water off a duck’s back”.
So, Mister, you haven’t seen me in my new dress yet. You undoubtedly will sooner or later. When you do, you can smile or laugh as you like, but this chick is gonna wear this dress.
And we can think about something else Porchia said: Yes, they are mistaken, because they do not know. And if they knew. . . Nothing. They would not even be mistaken.
Best wishes, Annabelle
Hi, Guys and Girls!
As far as I know, Antonio Porchia wasn’t trans, so his question might mean something slightly different to us than it would to him. I think he’d be OK with that, though.
A few days ago I reported having bought a full-length mirror, the first one I’ve ever owned. I hesitated to buy the thing because I feared it might be a mistake in a way. And so it’s turned out.
Yesterday when I was in town, I decided to have a look in one of the second-hand shops, and I found a dress that’s absolutely perfect. It fits like it was made for me. It’s light blue (a good color for me), buttons up the front and is belted at the waist. It has a collar, long sleeves that button at the wrists and a pleated skirt that comes down to my calves. Exactly my sort of thing, very comfortable to wear—and I paid a whopping €4 for it.
So this morning I put on my new dress and was admiring myself shamelessly in my new mirror—tossing my head and intoning, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s Miss Fancy Pants now?” And the mirror rolled its eyes heavenward.
But it got me to thinking about some things that have been discussed on this forum recently: people have been hurting because they’ve been laughed at or they’ve overheard some unkind remarks about transpeople. And I got to thinking about the man who delivered my new mirror to me.
He’s a fellow I’ve known casually for years. In the old days, in the drab years B.A. (Before Annabelle), he owned a little bicycle shop, so I bought this and that from him and got him to do the odd repair. He eventually closed the shop and now works at the supermarket where I bought the mirror. So he was the one who brought me my mirror.
When I opened my front door, I was greeted by a big, mocking smile on his face. Says he, “Is this Annabelle?” And I said yes, took my mirror, thanked him politely and closed the door on his jeering mug. He was laughing at me—and I didn’t care in the least. It made absolutely no impression on me. It didn’t ruin my day. It was like water off a duck’s back.
Because we can learn things from people like Antonio Porchia. What the delivery man saw is nothing like what I see in my mirror. Unlike me, he can’t see every day and every minute of my life. He can’t see what I’ve lived through. He can’t see what’s going on in my heart. He can’t see what a new dress or a new way of life means to me.
When I look in my mirror, that's what I see. I see all of that--and that's why I can toss my head and grin and make a fool of myself out of pure, overflowing joy. But because he can’t see any of that, his laughter and judgement don’t mean a thing. Only I can truly judge—let others misjudge out of ignorance if they will.
As I was telling a friend of mine not long ago, recently I’ve been feeling proud. I’m not proud of being trans. That’s simply what I am and I can’t see it’s a matter of pride. No, what I’m proud of is that after many, many years of stupidity and cowardice and “the fear and trembling and sickness unto death”, I’ve finally laid claim to what I am. This is me: this is the ground where I’ll plant my flag, and this is the ground that I will defend. And I’m proud of transpeople, because like every group of people on this earth we have a cross to bear, and bearing a cross is something that strong people do.
This is something I need to remember because I’m as thin-skinned as they come: the others can’t see what we see. When you understand their short-sightedness and when you truly lay claim to yourself with pride, it gives you a weapon that’s greater than strength: it’s called “indifference”. It’s called “water off a duck’s back”.
So, Mister, you haven’t seen me in my new dress yet. You undoubtedly will sooner or later. When you do, you can smile or laugh as you like, but this chick is gonna wear this dress.
And we can think about something else Porchia said: Yes, they are mistaken, because they do not know. And if they knew. . . Nothing. They would not even be mistaken.
Best wishes, Annabelle