I've written a few times about what I call "don't ask, can't tell." These are things we can't talk about because our lives are compartmentalised. With my civilian friends, I can't talk about most of what I did at the beach. With my trans friends, I can't talk about aspects of my job or family.
I did something that is causing me pain in both upper arms, and some mobility limitations. It started in my right arm and then wandered over to the left one. It will pop and hurt and not move in certain directions. It's not my shoulder ~ it's kind of in the middle between my elbow and shoulder, which doesn't even make sense to me. I'd expect joint pain, not between-joint pain.
Last week, walking to my cube, an officemate was standing, stretching his arms and twisting. We spoke about how it can be a pain (literally) to get old and he explained his problem and I explained mine. I finished by saying "I think I have some more mobility now." But I had to bite my tongue instead of finishing that thought with "yesterday, I could put my bra on by reaching around instead of turning it and fastening it and turning it afterwards."
Showing posts with label don't ask can't tell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label don't ask can't tell. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Roles Model
To stretch reality, I live two lives. I phrased it like that because it's not really two lives ~ maybe it's two sides of my life, maybe it's just whichever way I present with different people... I bet many people show a different side of themselves at work, with friends, alone with their spouse, for instance. One may show different sides of himself playing golf with his buddies or dining with his minister.
But those "two lives" cause me to live three roles. I often have to think about who I'm with before I say (or don't say) something. I've mentioned "don't ask, can't tell" (my male self among civilians) in several posts ~ I often can't talk about what I've done as Meg among people who know my day-to-day self. I was discussing games with my manager (he's a Diplomacy fan) and I mentioned playing Cards Against Humanity last week at the civilian game night.
I might have said to t-friends, "there were three girls and one guy at the table and on at least one occasion I said 'I really don't want to read this card!' because it was kind of on the raunchy side," suggesting I was embarrassed, as a woman, to read it in front of a guy I just met.
I told my manager about this, but said "I was playing with two women and one guy and on at least one occasion I said 'I really don't want to read this card!' because it was kind of on the raunchy side," suggesting I was embarrassed, to read that in front of two women.
But there's also my "Meg among civilians" role. I was talking with another Jewish player and started furiously thinking about my "back story" while we were talking. If he asked about my bat mitzvah, what would I say? I think if the roles were reversed, I'd avoid that, to avoid hearing a fable. But I was trying to remember what the state of bat mitzvah was when I was 13, in my denomination. I remembered that it was allowed, but more discouraged than required. I could safely say that I wasn't bat mitzvahed, but my brother, of course, was bar mitzvahed. And I had to remember the proper bar (male) or bat (female) ritual name.
I try to be ready, but there's so much I'd have to invent that I prefer to keep my mouth shut and hope for the best.
And there's also my "Meg among Trans" role, where I'm free to tell "nothing but the truth" at all times. But not the whole truth. The quintessential Washington question ("what do you do?") gets a vague response. So does "where do you work?" and fortunately, we all know to avoid questions that pry too deeply into the male persona.
I just realised there are two sub-roles. Within the "Meg among Trans" there are differences for girls who've only met Meg and girls who know both of me. And there's a "Meg among Civilians who know about Meg."
I like to tell the truth in part because it's the easiest path. Generally, when I can't (shouldn't) tell the truth, I try to change the subject or say nothing. But the roles remain.
Hmmm.... I may start mixing in "roles" examples with Wednesday's "simple pleasures."
But those "two lives" cause me to live three roles. I often have to think about who I'm with before I say (or don't say) something. I've mentioned "don't ask, can't tell" (my male self among civilians) in several posts ~ I often can't talk about what I've done as Meg among people who know my day-to-day self. I was discussing games with my manager (he's a Diplomacy fan) and I mentioned playing Cards Against Humanity last week at the civilian game night.
I might have said to t-friends, "there were three girls and one guy at the table and on at least one occasion I said 'I really don't want to read this card!' because it was kind of on the raunchy side," suggesting I was embarrassed, as a woman, to read it in front of a guy I just met.
I told my manager about this, but said "I was playing with two women and one guy and on at least one occasion I said 'I really don't want to read this card!' because it was kind of on the raunchy side," suggesting I was embarrassed, to read that in front of two women.
But there's also my "Meg among civilians" role. I was talking with another Jewish player and started furiously thinking about my "back story" while we were talking. If he asked about my bat mitzvah, what would I say? I think if the roles were reversed, I'd avoid that, to avoid hearing a fable. But I was trying to remember what the state of bat mitzvah was when I was 13, in my denomination. I remembered that it was allowed, but more discouraged than required. I could safely say that I wasn't bat mitzvahed, but my brother, of course, was bar mitzvahed. And I had to remember the proper bar (male) or bat (female) ritual name.
I try to be ready, but there's so much I'd have to invent that I prefer to keep my mouth shut and hope for the best.
And there's also my "Meg among Trans" role, where I'm free to tell "nothing but the truth" at all times. But not the whole truth. The quintessential Washington question ("what do you do?") gets a vague response. So does "where do you work?" and fortunately, we all know to avoid questions that pry too deeply into the male persona.
I just realised there are two sub-roles. Within the "Meg among Trans" there are differences for girls who've only met Meg and girls who know both of me. And there's a "Meg among Civilians who know about Meg."
I like to tell the truth in part because it's the easiest path. Generally, when I can't (shouldn't) tell the truth, I try to change the subject or say nothing. But the roles remain.
Hmmm.... I may start mixing in "roles" examples with Wednesday's "simple pleasures."
Friday, May 3, 2013
Dilemma
Charity plans to go
downtown on Saturday. She asked if I'd like to come along and since
it's to a part of Washington I've never been, I tentatively agreed. I
wasn't sure if I'd be in drab or dressed though.
Advantage of dressing: everything is more fun in dresses. It's going to be a beautiful, warm day and I can eschew coats or sweaters and just wear a casual dress or skirt. It's an eclectic part of town where Meg should fit right in.
Advantage of drab: we'd be going early in the morning so I'd have to get up early early.
Then she came home with the news that a friend from work and her SO wanted to go as well.
This changes the calculus.
Charity has no preference as to how I present. Her friend doesn't know about Meg, and it's possible she'll meet my male self in the future.
At this point in time, I'm not comfortable meeting someone as Meg who will most likely get to know my male self at some other, future point. In some cases, I can stretch that comfort zone and meet people either way, but that's mostly t-friends or people in another t-circle.
I've met a couple of t-girls as my male self. I've met Star's friends in both modes, but Star has a circle of friends who've met her SO, Andrea, in both male and female presentation. Yes, I don't know what they whisper to their friends after they leave. Yes, I don't know if they mind their own business regarding their friend, but not regarding a friend-of-a-friend. There's a level of trust here. I don't know if it's warranted but I grant that trust.
I've been to swaps in both modes, but the only person who has met both is Kim and her husband. I trust both. Kim is wonderful and her husband seems like a very live-and-let-live kind of guy.
But I don't know Charity's co-worker. I do know that there seem to be few secrets at work, and I don't know her other co-workers.
I could join them in drab, but I'd feel locked in and unable to "upgrade" later. I could join them dressed, but eventually they'll learn my birth name (if they don't know it already) and that might cause issues. Probably not, and maybe I'll be over that "I don't care" hump by then, but I have a poor record at predicting the future.
Besides, I have some things I need to do at home.
"So, do you have any plans for the weekend?" "Um..." Yes, this is definitely a "don't ask, can't tell" situation.
Advantage of dressing: everything is more fun in dresses. It's going to be a beautiful, warm day and I can eschew coats or sweaters and just wear a casual dress or skirt. It's an eclectic part of town where Meg should fit right in.
Advantage of drab: we'd be going early in the morning so I'd have to get up early early.
Then she came home with the news that a friend from work and her SO wanted to go as well.
This changes the calculus.
Charity has no preference as to how I present. Her friend doesn't know about Meg, and it's possible she'll meet my male self in the future.
At this point in time, I'm not comfortable meeting someone as Meg who will most likely get to know my male self at some other, future point. In some cases, I can stretch that comfort zone and meet people either way, but that's mostly t-friends or people in another t-circle.
I've met a couple of t-girls as my male self. I've met Star's friends in both modes, but Star has a circle of friends who've met her SO, Andrea, in both male and female presentation. Yes, I don't know what they whisper to their friends after they leave. Yes, I don't know if they mind their own business regarding their friend, but not regarding a friend-of-a-friend. There's a level of trust here. I don't know if it's warranted but I grant that trust.
I've been to swaps in both modes, but the only person who has met both is Kim and her husband. I trust both. Kim is wonderful and her husband seems like a very live-and-let-live kind of guy.
But I don't know Charity's co-worker. I do know that there seem to be few secrets at work, and I don't know her other co-workers.
I could join them in drab, but I'd feel locked in and unable to "upgrade" later. I could join them dressed, but eventually they'll learn my birth name (if they don't know it already) and that might cause issues. Probably not, and maybe I'll be over that "I don't care" hump by then, but I have a poor record at predicting the future.
Besides, I have some things I need to do at home.
"So, do you have any plans for the weekend?" "Um..." Yes, this is definitely a "don't ask, can't tell" situation.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Don't ask. Just don't.
I've been a member of a "men with breasts" list for a while. I joined when I was thinking that it might be nice to join those ranks. I'm still uncertain, but that's another post altogether. Many members talk about how large their breasts are, and how they got them that way. They also talk about comfort levels at showing them off, wearing bras to hide or expose them as they prefer.
They also mention that "no-one notices."
Yes They Do.
What they don't do is mention it to you.
From an early age, we're told not to stare at the man in the wheelchair/goth girl/guy with colourful tattoos/woman in burqa/man with mohawk/woman with mohawk/etc. "It's rude," we're told. And we're certainly discouraged from asking about any differences we notice.
Frankly, I believe that discussing differences is a way of understanding those differences. But I still Don't Ask.
Everybody's different, everyone reacts differently. People notice people who don't fit the norm, except when they don't notice. Many people don't expect to see breasts on a man (for example) but some notice everything. They look at you, they shake your hand, they make eye contact, they greet you, and say nothing. To you. Later, they say to their friend/coworker "did you see the boobs on Fred?" Their friend may not have noticed. But they'll notice next time.
And they'll say nothing.
We learned not to talk about differences.
This never happens:
We don't ask the pirate on the next stool what happened, even if he'd love to talk about it. Look at it from a child's point of view. Many people would be happy to enlighten a child as to why they're wearing a turban or sari. Maybe there's a wondrous story behind the tattoo or a war story behind the wheelchair.
I had a friend who had hair she could sit on. When I commented on her beautiful hair, she told me that her brother, who died in a car accident a few years earlier, loved her long hair and she promised him she wouldn't cut it. But a third party would think me rude, even if I said to her "your hair is magnificent! Why do you let it grow so long?"
I'm not sure I'd like someone to ask me about my tights or ring or bracelet or flowery socks. I'm on the "don't care" cusp, I think. But without a story (and I have one for the bracelet that's not really a story), it's hard to get around. And I think right now I'm comfortable with "I like femme things and I wear them when I have the chance."
They also mention that "no-one notices."
Yes They Do.
What they don't do is mention it to you.
From an early age, we're told not to stare at the man in the wheelchair/goth girl/guy with colourful tattoos/woman in burqa/man with mohawk/woman with mohawk/etc. "It's rude," we're told. And we're certainly discouraged from asking about any differences we notice.
Frankly, I believe that discussing differences is a way of understanding those differences. But I still Don't Ask.
Everybody's different, everyone reacts differently. People notice people who don't fit the norm, except when they don't notice. Many people don't expect to see breasts on a man (for example) but some notice everything. They look at you, they shake your hand, they make eye contact, they greet you, and say nothing. To you. Later, they say to their friend/coworker "did you see the boobs on Fred?" Their friend may not have noticed. But they'll notice next time.
And they'll say nothing.
We learned not to talk about differences.
This never happens:
A man is drinking at a bar, and he strikes up a conversation with the guy next to him, who happens to be a pirate.
He says "I hope you don't mind my asking, but I notice you have a peg leg. May I ask how you lost your leg?"
The pirate says "During a raging storm I was thrown overboard and a shark took off my leg. I was lucky to be alive."
The man says "wow. So, what's the story behind the hook?"
The pirate says "we had a fierce battle on deck. While I was engaged with one man another came up behind me with a scimitar and took my hand clean off."
The man is amazed and says "how about the eye patch? How did you lose your eye?"
The pirate says "a bird pooped in it."
The man looks surprised and says "how did you lose an eye from bird poop?"
The pirate says "well, it was my first day with the hook."We don't ask the pirate on the next stool what happened, even if he'd love to talk about it. Look at it from a child's point of view. Many people would be happy to enlighten a child as to why they're wearing a turban or sari. Maybe there's a wondrous story behind the tattoo or a war story behind the wheelchair.
I had a friend who had hair she could sit on. When I commented on her beautiful hair, she told me that her brother, who died in a car accident a few years earlier, loved her long hair and she promised him she wouldn't cut it. But a third party would think me rude, even if I said to her "your hair is magnificent! Why do you let it grow so long?"
I'm not sure I'd like someone to ask me about my tights or ring or bracelet or flowery socks. I'm on the "don't care" cusp, I think. But without a story (and I have one for the bracelet that's not really a story), it's hard to get around. And I think right now I'm comfortable with "I like femme things and I wear them when I have the chance."
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Another Don't Ask, Can't Tell
Before I start, a little quick poll: the lip gloss I use most, Clinique superbalm moisturizing gloss in Apricot, is about empty. I generally put on my gloss in the men's room at work. It comes in one of those squeeze tubes. I will probably finish it in by early next week. I can be careful (and proper) and toss it in the trash, or I can be daring (and sloppy) and leave it on the sink counter. I'm tempted to see what (if anything) people will say to an empty tube of gloss in the men's room.
This Don't Ask involves a little potential parking faux pas.
As I mentioned, I went to DC to check out the museums and see Batman in IMAX on opening day. I was wondering how to go. I do not like to drive in DC so I figured I'd take the metro. But right now I'm in Arlington which is pretty close to DC and to get to a station with parking I'd have to head away from the city. That's annoying. It'll take longer to go in and I get to pay more for the privilege.
I know a workaround though. I can park at my office; I have a little magic card so I can do that. From there I can get a free shuttle to the Pentagon and from there I can take the train into DC. Not too bad, and it's unlikely that anyone I knew would recognise me. It's not impossible, but it is unlikely.
Then I figured out that there was one little problem: to get on the shuttle I have to show my Department of Defense ID. The Pentagon police patrol my office grounds. They might not be as understanding as TSA was, when I flew.
I actually think this is a pretty amusing story, but I can't share it with my coworkers, now, can I? "Guess what I almost did? I almost came to the office in drag so I could take the shuttle but then I would have had to show my ID, wouldn't I? That would have been embarrassing."
This Don't Ask involves a little potential parking faux pas.
As I mentioned, I went to DC to check out the museums and see Batman in IMAX on opening day. I was wondering how to go. I do not like to drive in DC so I figured I'd take the metro. But right now I'm in Arlington which is pretty close to DC and to get to a station with parking I'd have to head away from the city. That's annoying. It'll take longer to go in and I get to pay more for the privilege.
I know a workaround though. I can park at my office; I have a little magic card so I can do that. From there I can get a free shuttle to the Pentagon and from there I can take the train into DC. Not too bad, and it's unlikely that anyone I knew would recognise me. It's not impossible, but it is unlikely.
Then I figured out that there was one little problem: to get on the shuttle I have to show my Department of Defense ID. The Pentagon police patrol my office grounds. They might not be as understanding as TSA was, when I flew.
I actually think this is a pretty amusing story, but I can't share it with my coworkers, now, can I? "Guess what I almost did? I almost came to the office in drag so I could take the shuttle but then I would have had to show my ID, wouldn't I? That would have been embarrassing."
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Hanging with Meg
A couple of weeks ago, my oldest son asked me to join "Hanging with Friends," his new internet addiction. He's discovered word games and knows I'd be a challenging opponent. We play Scrabble, Quiddler, Boggle. We've been fairly well matched, which is fun.
Anyway, I agreed. "What do I need to do?" "You need to download the app and get a user name."
Bah. I know what username I want to get: Meg, CallMeMeg, Megabuttons... Something Meggish.
But that would be hard to explain, so I found something non-femme.
And my son and I have been fairly evenly matched, which is fun. Now I'm also playing with a couple of on-line friends of Meg.
I sure wish I picked a different name!
Anyway, I agreed. "What do I need to do?" "You need to download the app and get a user name."
Bah. I know what username I want to get: Meg, CallMeMeg, Megabuttons... Something Meggish.
But that would be hard to explain, so I found something non-femme.
And my son and I have been fairly evenly matched, which is fun. Now I'm also playing with a couple of on-line friends of Meg.
I sure wish I picked a different name!
Friday, January 6, 2012
And Another Tactcial Error
(update to yesterday: I didn't beep)
(dact [don't ask, can't tell] note: in the bathroom, one of my coworkers said "do you know what I hate? I hate when I dress in the dark and I put on my boxers backwards and don't realise it until I go to the bathroom later." All I could say was "that's never happened to me" instead of "I wear panties. I know when they're on backwards because the roomy side is on the wrong side. And I never worry about the fly.")
At night, I get my clothes for the next day and I hang them in the spare bedroom. I used to hang them in the bathroom, but I share that with the boys and with the camisoles and tights I've been wearing.... Let's say it's better to keep everything out of sight.
Last night, I put aside a silky (well, polyester, the poor girl's silk) camisole with lace trim around the neck. I put that on the hanger with my shirt. I also pulled out plain black tights, which I stuff into my shirt sleeve.
I used to change in the bathroom but it's more comfortable to change on the bed in the guest room ~ it's easier to put on the hose.
Today, well, it's hard to tell, but I think I'm wearing black pantyhose instead of tights. I have a hard time telling them apart sometimes, but they don't seem as opaque or heavy, and the panty part seems thinner.
Standing up in my hose, they definitely look more like hose than tights but I noticed something: the part around the ankle and bottom of the leg is more opaque than the rest of the leg or the foot itself.
It seems to me that that's the way it stretches and that works out great. I don't expect a problem today and now I have more choices. I do have to experiment though ~ I have some pretty sheer black hose.
(dact [don't ask, can't tell] note: in the bathroom, one of my coworkers said "do you know what I hate? I hate when I dress in the dark and I put on my boxers backwards and don't realise it until I go to the bathroom later." All I could say was "that's never happened to me" instead of "I wear panties. I know when they're on backwards because the roomy side is on the wrong side. And I never worry about the fly.")
At night, I get my clothes for the next day and I hang them in the spare bedroom. I used to hang them in the bathroom, but I share that with the boys and with the camisoles and tights I've been wearing.... Let's say it's better to keep everything out of sight.
Last night, I put aside a silky (well, polyester, the poor girl's silk) camisole with lace trim around the neck. I put that on the hanger with my shirt. I also pulled out plain black tights, which I stuff into my shirt sleeve.
I used to change in the bathroom but it's more comfortable to change on the bed in the guest room ~ it's easier to put on the hose.
Today, well, it's hard to tell, but I think I'm wearing black pantyhose instead of tights. I have a hard time telling them apart sometimes, but they don't seem as opaque or heavy, and the panty part seems thinner.
Standing up in my hose, they definitely look more like hose than tights but I noticed something: the part around the ankle and bottom of the leg is more opaque than the rest of the leg or the foot itself.
It seems to me that that's the way it stretches and that works out great. I don't expect a problem today and now I have more choices. I do have to experiment though ~ I have some pretty sheer black hose.
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