Trans 101

TUCKING AND BINDING

Welcome to #TransTuesday! This week things are gonna get uncomfortable, literally. Strap in (a ha, it is to laugh) because we’re talking about: TUCKING AND BINDING. Cis folks, this one includes activities you can do right in your own home!

Caveat: as a trans woman, binding isn’t something I’ve done or have any experience with. But it’s the other side of the coin so I wanted to mention it. As you might expect, this thread is going to mostly focus on tucking.

Okay soooo what the hell are tucking and binding? Very generally, tucking is what some people who were assigned male at birth (AMAB) do to hide the penis and testicles. Binding is what some people who were assigned female at birth (AFAB) do to hide breasts.

Why on earth would we do that? There’s a few reasons, and it can be a combo of them or even something else entirely. Also trans men and women aren’t the only ones who employ these techniques. Many non-binary, agender, and gender fluid people also do it.

One of the big reasons is gender dysphoria. If a trans woman’s secondary sex characteristics make her dysphoria worse, she might want to hide them just so she doesn’t have to see them and be reminded.

Hiding the penis and testicles provides for a more typically (cis) feminine appearance. Even if a trans woman wants “bottom surgery” to make this not an issue, the wait is often years long. Tucking may help in the meantime.

Also, maybe you’ve never considered this, but women’s clothes are exclusively designed for cis women. Which means there’s not… room in the crotch. FOR STUFF. Which means when wearing women’s clothes, those of us AMAB are faced with some problems.

It can be really uncomfortable, or even downright painful. On top of that, as the clothing wasn’t designed with room for crotch junk, said crotch junk can show in ways clothes designed for cis men might prevent.

And lemme just make it clear that if a trans lady WANTS to show that area off, that’s her business. How many cis men wear pants that are too tight for exactly the same reason? If they get to do it, so do trans women.

But even if a trans woman doesn’t WANT to tuck, it can also be an issue of safety. And I suspect you can imagine the added danger we’d open ourselves up to in public by being a woman who had visible crotch junk under her pants. It’s a big flashing neon I’M TRANS sign.

I’m not ashamed of being trans. I love being trans. I don’t hide it. I’ll probably never really be able to pass for a cis woman anyway, which is an entirely different and complicated issue I talked about in the trans tuesday on MISGENDERING AND PASSING.

But considering the epidemic of violence against trans people, especially us trans women, anything that can minimize that is a good thing. So tucking is also very much a safety issue.

We shouldn’t have to do that just to make ignorant violent cis people leave us alone, should we? Hell no. But this is the society we live in.

Okay okay okay, so now you know why we do it, and (roughly) what it is. And I bet you’re wondering… how… does one do that? Remember when I said there was something you could try right in the comfort of your own home?

Guess what I’m going to ask you to do today! 🌟

Listen. There’s not a lot of being trans that cis people can actually experience for themselves. BUT THIS IS ONE THING YOU CAN. And I want you to. Because it will give you a little more insight into some of the things we deal with.

Alright, CIS DUDES, are you ready? You’re a manly man, nothing to be afraid of! You can do it, I believe in you! Here we go.

Did you know that humans have a little… opening, I guess, for lack of a better word, in the abdomen? It’s called the inguinal canal, and in AMAB folks, it’s basically right under/behind the penis at the top of the scrotum (OH NO WEIRD MEDICAL CROTCH TERMS).

If you gently poke around there you should find it. Here’s where the fun comes in… y’know how your testicles move around in the scrotum? There’s room for them to do that, because they like to party. SO LET’S PARTY.

GENTLY push them up INTO the inguinal canal. I hear your screams from here, but it’ll be fine as long as you’re careful. Spoiler alert: they’ve probably been in there before, like when it’s very cold or at other times when they recede somewhat.

One goes up and in on each side. Then you pull the penis down and back to rest between your butt cheeks. Don’t pull too hard, or too far, or wedge it in there hard or anything. But that’s where it goes.

If ANYTHING HURTS you’re doing it wrong. It should be uncomfortable (DEFINITELY UNCOMFORTABLE), but not painful. If it hurts, undo and try again.

Then you pull your underwear and pants back up, and voila! Your junk be hidden.

Okay, now what? Try walking around. Try bending over. Try SITTING. Now imagine doing that for… an hour. Two hours. Eight hours. Welcome to a tiny portion of the trans woman experience!

Oh and any time you have to pee, guess what? Undo and redo all of it.

Every time.

You may notice things are… popping out. Yep! You have to use things to help hold it all in place… some people use tape (ouch) or sports tape that’s at least meant for skin. Some use a gaffe that goes over the underwear.

There’s even now something called T-tape meant just for this, but I’ve not tried it. What I presently use are underwear with a gaffe sewn right in, specifically made for trans women. They’re called Tuck Buddies and you can find them on Etsy. Highly recommended!

It flattens the front appearance and helps keep everything tucked away without popping out. But I have to remember to put these underwear on if I’m going out, because regular underwear will absolutely not work.

And stop and imagine for a minute if every time you left your home you had to remember to pause and think about what underwear you’re wearing, and then very likely have to go change them just to go to the grocery store. Fun, no?

For cis women to try binding your breasts, well, here I’m at a loss. You know how a sports bra really flattens out the area? That’s a good start. There are binders made for this specific purpose, but they can be expensive.

If any trans men or non-binary folks experienced with binding have tips about ways to safely try at home, please share them! I sincerely hope some cis ladies will give it a shot, just to help better understand what we’re dealing with. You can at least read more about it here:
https://www.prideinpractice.org/articles/chest-binding-physician-guide/

There’s also a flip-side to this. Before hormones made my breasts grow, I wore silicone breast forms in my bra. Why? A couple reasons. One, it lessened my dysphoria. A LOT. It made me look, and more importantly feel, like the real me.

Second, I’ve talked a bit about how buying an entire new wardrobe is… expensive. I touched on that in the trans tuesday on PRIVELEGE (time and money).

So if I bought women’s clothes that fit me when I had no breasts to speak of, they might not fit me anymore when that changes, and I just cannot afford to replace every item of clothing I own twice (much less the ONCE that I already have to).

This meant that grabbing a $30 pair of fake boobs to drop in my bra was the most economical solution to helping me get clothes that will, hopefully, fit me for a while. Even though we all know women’s clothes don’t last that long. I did a trans tuesday on HEAVILY GENDERED CLOTHES AND TRANS PEOPLE.

I don’t use the breast forms anymore, because I don’t need to, which makes me incredibly happy! But I’m so glad they were there for me early on, because they actually really helped.

And for those who were AFAB, the corollary is what’s called a “soft pack,” which is a soft silicone penis and testicles they can situate in their underwear. And they do it for all the exact same reasons.

Are there long-term effects of tucking or binding? There is suspicion that tucking could lead to infertility (this is not a big deal for any trans woman already on hormone replacement therapy, as it already does that). Folks who use binders regularly may end up with back issues.

Would it surprise you to learn nobody really knows? Because we’re not considered important enough for these things to be studied. Hell, almost all of HRT exists because the drugs were developed for OTHER reasons, and then also had applications for trans people.

That’s pretty damned shitty. Read this little thread:
https://twitter.com/EKaleEdmiston/status/1397887783084113924

So if anyone out there in the medical community would like to start specifically studying how these things affect trans folks, or possibly even develop medications actually intended for us first and foremost, that’d be super.

Until then, we’ll keep doing the best we can with what we have, because it’s better than the alternative. Anything we can do to get to a truer us.

Tilly Bridges, end transmission.
tillysbridges@gmail.com

PS – Cis folks! Did you try tucking/binding? I hope so, and I WANT TO KNOW HOW IT WENT.

MISGENDERING AND PASSING

Welcome to #TransTuesday! This week we’re getting into two topics! One is very straightforward and easy, the other is convoluted and complex. But they’re intrinsically related, so we’re gonna talk about them together. Let’s get into MISGENDERING AND PASSING.

Misgendering, quite clearly, is when someone genders another the wrong way. This doesn’t just happen to trans people, mind you! It can happen to cis folks too, especially if they don’t conform to the rigid stereotypes of what women and men “should” look or act or sound like.

In fact, if you check out the trans tuesday on TRANS REP IN MEDIA 2022 (in movies/tv) you can see misgendering cis people is often played for laughs. It’s a JOKE, isn’t it FUNNY someone mistook this girl for a boy? O HO HO IT IS TO LAUGH.

Passing is the more complicated issue, but only in terms of talking about it. It’s incredibly easy to understand. If you’re not familiar, it’s when a trans person can “pass” or be seen as a cis person of their gender.

And already you can hopefully see how fraught and delicate that topic is, because you’re talking about the ways other people PERCEIVE us, and that is ALL wrapped up in societal “norms” and implicit biases. See the trans tuesday on IMPLICIT QUEERPHOBIA for more info.

If you’re interested in the science behind misgendering and why it happens, my lovely friend Zoe has an article for you.

I have gotten misgendered a lot. Most trans people have, and that’s ALSO because of the implicit queerphobia (and sexism, and a whole host of other issues) society imprints on us because we are raised inside of it.

We’re led to believe women and men “should” (I stress those quotes) look and behave a certain way, and if someone doesn’t, or “worse” (MEGA stress on those quotes) is read as a gender different than what we are, we get misgendered. I have a fine (horrible) example for you.

I’m at the pharmacy picking up prescriptions. The woman at the register proceeds to call me “sir” six times in the span of five minutes.

In case you’re wondering, so you understand the situation: my hair was down, and is quite long. I’m wearing ladies’ cat eye glasses, a lady-cut leather jacket (unzipped) with visible boobs (in a bra) under my shirt, lady-cut jeans, and a goddamned purse. My mask is light pink.

And the mask covers (what I feel is) the most masculine part of my face, my jawline. And I’ve spent over TWO YEARS in voice therapy to feminize my voice. WHAT ELSE DO I HAVE TO DO? How are you still choosing to call me “sir”?

I do not believe this cashier was being malicious about it. Actually it’s possible she never even looked at me long enough for it to register, and was replying to me simply based on my voice. Which… again, I’ve been working on for a very long time.

Either way, the result is I was specifically coded the way our society codes women, saying LOOK AT ME: WOMAN. RIGHT HERE. And

it

didn’t

matter

And it just wrecked me for the rest of the day. It actually might have been easier to deal with if it HAD been intentional and malicious, because then, while still awful, you can be like “they’re just a bigot and their opinions are all wrong and don’t matter anyway.”

But no, here was just a person who absolutely did not (or did not care to) see me as the person I am. And I’m doing everything I can to make you SEE ME. Please, see **ME**. I’m right here! Look! This ties right into the trans tuesday on CONFIDENCE.

Trans people have spent our LIVES not being seen, feeling alone and isolated in our own bodies. We finally discover the truth, get the courage to transition in a society that discriminates against us and often actively harms us…

And we’re still NOT SEEN. It’s just devastating. It made me feel smaller than I ever did when *making* myself small because of my dysphoria. It was worse. So much worse. It made me feel like no matter what I do, maybe the world will never see ME.

And this is where we dovetail with “passing.” No trans person should have to pass to be accepted as themselves in society. We should be able to just be ourselves, whatever our most true self may be, and that should be the end of it.

But our society is deeply flawed (in so many ways), and sadly it just doesn’t work like that. I don’t think I pass, but I also don’t want to. I’m fine if people read me as trans, because I’m SO PROUD to be trans. Truly.

But there’s a safety issue at play, right? Because violence against trans people, especially us trans women, is an epidemic. Cis women have it bad too, don’t misunderstand, but it’s not the same. The danger is definitely heightened when your variety of woman is trans.

So if a trans person can pass as cis, that can help them be more safe and even more accepted by the cis people around them. If they read us as “one of them,” they’re less likely to otherize us or harass us or worse.

I don’t care if I pass. But if I did, I’d get “she” and “her” and “miss” much more often affirming me as who I am. I wouldn’t get discriminated against (for being trans, but still definitely would for being a woman).

If I passed, I wouldn’t get stared at by so many people every time I’m out, where I can see the gears turning in their heads as they try to figure out my gender (as if it’s in any way relevant to them or any of their business).

See the trans tuesday on STOP STARING AT US (trans people are human beings) for more on what that does to a person.

If I passed, I wouldn’t have my DMs full of chasers popping in to harass me, sexualize me, and then immediately spout transphobic vitriol at me if I don’t respond positively. There’s a whole trans tuesday on CHASERS AND THE FETISHIZATION OF TRANS WOMEN.

No trans person should HAVE to pass just to be treated like a human being!

And there’s the other side of the coin… where if you feel you need to pass because you can’t or don’t want to “look trans” that’s a BIG problem and is INTERNALIZED TRANSPHOBIA at work. Yep, there’s a trans tuesday on it (natch).

As I’ve mentioned before, part of me does wish I was a cis woman, because it would be so much easier. And because of all the experiences as a young girl that I missed out on. But it’s not being cis that I want, I just want a life that’s not so hard and life experiences I missed.

For more on that, see THE CONSTANT FIGHT for the ways cis people make trans existence a constant and necessary fight for survival (by design).

And see THE PAST AND WHY IT HAUNTS US for how difficult our own pasts can be for trans people who transition as adults.

But I AM proud of being trans. It’s who I am, and it took so much work and self-reflection and fucking courage, and I’m proud as hell of all of it. Every trans person should be. I don’t want to hide it. And I shouldn’t have to.

But I’m not here to judge any trans person who passes. NONE of us should judge any trans person for whether they pass or not, or WANT to pass or not.

Everyone has to decide what’s best for them, and even that can be in flux over time, as we learn and change and grow. And that’s fine. Just let people BE.

Maybe what would help is somehow doing away with “sir” and “miss” and “ma’am”  entirely. Do we NEED these gendered words? If the cashier at the pharmacy had simply said “Sorry for the delay” instead of “Sorry for the delay, sir,” it would have been no less respectful.

And I also can’t help but think of all our nonbinary friends, for whom ALL of the above gendered words are going to make them feel like they’re not seen. I mean damn, if they go see a show and it opens with an address of “ladies and gentlemen,” they’re already left out.

I don’t know if there’s an easy answer. There’s probably not. Other than simply ASKING someone their pronouns before you begin a discussion with them.

That’s why people putting their pronouns in their bios on social media is so important, because it normalizes it. It’s an easy show of support from cis allies to say, hey, telling people your pronouns (or asking someone for them) is perfectly fine, we should ALL do it.

So until our society, our language, and our lexicon can come up with some better way of addressing people respectfully without gendering them at all… please just ask.

Because that simple act could be the difference between a trans person feeling seen and affirmed and like they belong in the world, or their entire day being ruined and maybe feeling like nobody in the world will ever really see them.

And just ask people their pronouns! It’s not hard, and could mean the world to someone. Signed, the lady who still sprouts wings and takes flight when someone refers to her with “she” or “her” or “hey you tall buff lady.” 💜

Tilly Bridges, end transmission.
tillysbridges@gmail.com

TRANS COURAGE

Welcome to #TransTuesday! Today we’re talking about something nearly every trans person is intimately familiar with, because we often can’t be who we are without it. And I’m going to tell you a (true!) story to help explain. Let’s dive into: TRANS COURAGE.

This all begins with a childhood story, and you’re going to wonder how it’s related to anything trans, but stick with me. It’ll make sense at the end.

No place has ever felt like home to me unless Susan was there with me, and even still no place has felt like home more than Los Angeles. I think the city itself feels more like home than any of the apartments we’ve actually lived in.

I feel somewhat disassociated from my past and childhood for reasons I’ve talked a bit about before, mostly in my thread on THE PAST and why it haunts those of us who transition as adults.

We also moved around a lot when I was a kid, so I never had too long to get attached to a place. The longest we ever lived somewhere was one house from when I was 8 to 16, so I suppose that’s as close to any kind of feeling of a childhood home that I have.

There was a playground nearby, and I went there with my friends often. But it wasn’t that big and we’d get bored with it fairly quickly, so we’d end up heading out into the fairly big (for a suburb) park that it was part of.

Way at the far end was a very modest lake, which I think was created as part of the subdivision. It took a while to walk there and all the nearby surrounding houses faced away from it, and most had their yards blocked by big fences.

So when you were there it felt kind of like you were in your own little world. There’s a pretty busy street nearby, which present satellite view shows is six lanes wide, so you could always hear the traffic. But it didn’t matter, it felt kind of like our little secret.

Sometimes we’d go fishing there, I guess because my parents bought me a pole and tackle box because it was a thing boys should have? I never really had any interest in fishing, and I made my friends put the worms on the hooks because I was NOT touching them.

You can tell I really loved it, can’t you? We never caught anything, and thinking about how this was an artificial lake, there probably weren’t even any fish in it. I don’t think we’d have known what to do with one if we caught it, anyway. I suspect there’d have been a lot of screaming.

There were always a lot of ducks though, and we’d find tortoises sometimes. We’d “skate” on it in our sneakers in winter when it was frozen over, which… was probably a very bad decision and I may be lucky to still be alive. But that ain’t the half of it.

Because “highly unsafe” basically describes me as a kid. Our neighborhood was relatively new and things were always under construction. In the summers I’d go poking through every construction site on the weekend when nobody was there.

Once I found a house that only had a basement foundation so far, and I jumped down inside it to explore and I had very, very little upper arm strength and couldn’t pull myself back up to get out. It took me over an hour to figure out how to escape that proto-basement.

It occurs to me now that my fascination with exploring buildings that were under construction and nowhere near finished is… probably related to my love of cutaways, blueprints, and technical diagrams. See SEARCHING FOR MEANING (when you’re trans and don’t know it).

Anyway, I never panicked when trapped in that basement (other than worrying I’d be home late). All of this is only to show you what this lake meant to my life back then, and so you understand the general nature of little Tilly’s insatiable curiosity (big Tilly has that too tho).

So the “corner” of this lake had a sewer runoff pipe that led into it. I went all around the lake on google maps street view trying to get an image of it, but due to the aforementioned houses ringing the lake, it’s basically blocked on every side.

So the pic I used before is the closest I could find with a quick image search. There were no rocky ledges in front of it, it just kind of came out of a hillside and dumped rainwater into the lake and its muddy shore.

I’ve always been someone whose imagination runs away with her (works well for being a writer!) and I could NOT stop thinking about what wonders might be deep inside that sewer pipe. I’d try to talk my friends into going in to see all the time, but none of them ever would.

I mean that speaks well of them, I guess. They weren’t imaginative banana clowns like me. But remember I’m the girl who jumped into an unfinished basement with 7’ high walls and no stairs without a single thought as to how I’d get back out.

So one hot summer day I was bored at the playground, and I was alone. My parents always told me to come back if none of my friends were around, but I never did. What a scamp! So I went down to the lake and poked around in the muck a bit.

I could hear the traffic and the ducks, and that weird kind of buzzy hum you get from bugs during midwest summers that I can hear so clearly in my mind, but couldn’t remotely tell you what actually made that sound.

The lake was always mostly still, though you’d get some tiny waves from what little wind could get between the houses or from the huge open field between the lake and the playground.

And I saw the drainage pipe.

And I couldn’t stop looking at it.

And my heart raced.

And you know where this is going.

I peeked around the side and looked in. PIIIIIIITCH. BLACK. When I tell you this gave me only a moment’s hesitation, well… yeah, I was actually kind of terrified, but the curiosity! What was in there? Whatever it was, I’D be the first to know!

I know it was hot and sunny that day, but I guess it must have rained recently because there was water running through the pipe. Not a lot, but enough that I couldn’t just walk in without getting my feet soaked. So (oh god, how did I not die)…

I leapt across the stream on the bottom, hit the side of the pipe with my left foot and shot my right foot out the other way… and I balanced myself with my legs spread wide OVER the stream, my feet at weird awkward angles due to the rounded sides of the pipe.

And then I… well I don’t know what you call it. It wasn’t walking. I’d pull one foot off the wall and shoot it forward to immediately brace it again, and then do the other side, so I could move down the pipe without wading through the water.

And so I went. Just… down into the darkness. It obviously got darker the further in I went. I don’t know where the nearest opening for rainwater to enter was, but it wasn’t close. Sounds got muffled. I couldn’t hear the traffic anymore.

I couldn’t hear the ducks, I couldn’t hear the buzzing insects. All I could hear was the running of the water underneath me, my sneakers as they scuffled along the walls, and my ragged breathing (because I was ding dang TERRIFIED).

Eventually I’d gone so far the opening looked like a pin prick behind me. I couldn’t see ANYTHING, it was just me and the curved concrete walls I could feel through the soles of my shoes and the sound of the water.

And I wasn’t worried about getting hurt, just about getting lost. I’ve always had GREAT spatial acuity. I can SEE shapes in my mind, and how they fit together. I’m GREAT at packing suitcases! Also at remembering convoluted paths through video games, even at that age.

So I was pretty sure I’d be able to find my way out, especially as I’d only gone in a straight line so far, but again: overactive imagination. What if I COULDN’T? What if I was lost down here? How would anyone ever find me?

Nobody would ever even think to LOOK down there. What if I was just stuck alone starving to death in the darkness forever??? What if while I was down there, there was a thunderstorm and water came rushing in and drowned me???

Note I did not think of these things before going in. It’s the basement foundation all over again.

Ah, to be a kid.

I was excited and fascinated and my heart was beating out of my chest. I was finally thinking about turning around when I noticed I could see a little better. There was light up ahead, and the first branch in the pipe.

Well I at least had to see what THAT was about, as I’d not seen or found anything else and that disappointment would not stand. So I continued on until I got to the opening, where it branched off to the right.

There was a weird little sort of lip where the two concrete pipes met, and water was running over it but I could stand on either side of that without too much trouble, which was a good spot to rest my feet.

So I got myself on that somehow and looked down this new avenue. And there was the first drain I’d seen from a street above, sunlight streaming down through the circular overhead grate.

I have no idea how long I had been in the dark, but the light hurt a little the way it cut through the dark like neon. I used my same “walking” shuffling method and went down the new pipe to the opening, and I looked up.

I have no idea where it was within the neighborhood. I have no idea what was up there. To this day I still don’t know. All I saw was bright blue sky.

If I ever go back to that town, I could probably walk around the streets near the lake and find the exact spot, assuming there’s been no major drainage construction in the intervening years. But I’m not sure I want to.

I guess I kind of do, buuuuut then again no, because it feels like that spot would then be somehow less mine, and less special. I dunno. But to see it from the other side of the drain would be… something.

The image of that neon-like shaft of light from above, the ONLY thing I could see in the blackout, has been seared in my brain since that day. I hope I never forget it. It was the first thing I think I’d ever experienced where I realized… this was MINE.

NOBODY else’s. Nobody else had seen this. Maybe nobody else ever would. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but it was a while, because for some reason I loved it and I didn’t want to go.

I suspect eventually the light let me see my watch and I realized I had no idea how long it would take me to get back out and I didn’t want to be late getting home, so I tore myself away and made it safely back out, without even getting my toes wet.

I never went back in, and I don’t really know why. Maybe I’d sated the curiosity. Or maybe the memory was just too special and I didn’t want to have it ruined or overwritten with repeated trips.

So why am I telling you all this? Because going into that sewer, ill-advised as it may have been, took all the courage I could muster. But I wasn’t going to let fear stop me. All through my life, I see myself doing the same, even if it took me a while (or too long!), I faced it.

Look at the post I made the day I got a makeover from a Hollywood makeup artist, which was when I knew that not only could I transition all the way, I HAD to because I finally got my first brief glimpse of the real me.
https://twitter.com/TillyBridges/status/1237470565344006144

A tweet I made on March 10, 2020 that reads: today I did something I’d been terrified to do for most of my life (I can’t tell you what it is, but it’s not dangerous so do not worry). And all I can tell you is that we only live once and if you’re wondering if you should do that thing that scaresyou? Fuck yes. Go do it. [purple heart emoji]

I don’t know if part of this came from me somehow seeing DEFENDING YOUR LIFE on tv as a kid, but it had a huge impact on me. We just watched it again last year and I don’t think I’d seen it since, and it was revelatory to discover how it had impacted me.

The Defending Your Life movie poster, showing Albert Brooks and Meryl Streep in white robes, holding hands and looking at each other in front of a billboard with a tram on it. The billboard reads, “Judgment City, just minutes away. Turn left onto the Past Lives Parkway.” The poster tagline reads, “The first true story of what happens after you die.”

The movie’s about this guy who dies and in the afterlife, has to answer for all the decisions he made where he let his fear override his desires, kept him from living the life he wanted and being the person he wanted to be.

The entire story is about facing your fears and not letting them control you, because you never ever know what’s waiting for you on the other side. And to NOT know, or to let those things go, can damage us in complex ways.

If you haven’t seen it, you absolutely should. It’s a warm hug and maybe it’ll change your life, too (I suspect Albert Brooks never thought it’d help a lady embrace her transness years later, but here we are).

Being trans in this world takes courage, EVEN THOUGH IT SHOULDN’T. Being trans should (and is!) just like being left handed or a redhead. It’s just a way some humans are. WE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BE COURAGEOUS TO SIMPLY EXIST.

But we sadly do, because so much of the world hates us for no good reason. If you (somehow) need the reminder… translegislation.com is tracking 492 anti-trans bills introduced across the United States so far this year!

Nothing I feared in life ever held me back… EXCEPT anything relating to being trans. See the trans tuesday on THE FEAR OF EMBRACING YOUR TRUE SELF (and Halloween, costumes, and makeup).

You can also see the trans tuesday on HAIR, and how growing it out scared the crap out of me.

And you can see its follow up, HAIR 2, on how going for my first real haircut ALSO scared the crap out of me.

These things, ANYTHING related to my transness, was the drainage pipe at the lake. I saw it. I knew it was there. And I wanted to know what was down in those depths SO badly, but god I was SO scared to look. SO SO SCARED.

And I was afraid enough that I didn’t look inside for… too damned long. But eventually I went in. And it was awkward and terrifying, and I was worried I’d get lost in the blackout.

Until I found that neon shaft of light that explained it all. Hey look, you’re okay. This is why everything’s been so dark and confusing. You’re trans, and that’s OKAY, and you CAN be whoever you want to be, whoever you really are.

Explore that darkness. Find the light inside. Do what scares you. Be who you are.
(and watch DEFENDING YOUR LIFE, it’s great).

Look. Look UP.

Look beyond the grate keeping you in the dark.

It’s open blue sky, girl.

Just waiting for you.

Tilly Bridges, end transmission.
tillysbridges@gmail.com

LEGAL NAME AND GENDER MARKER CHANGE

Welcome to #TransTuesday! Today’s topic is LEGALLY CHANGING YOUR NAME AND GENDER MARKER. My experience in California is going to be remarkably different than in other parts of the country/world however, so keep that in mind!

Last Wednesday, May 19, my documents were dropped off at the courthouse to start the legal process of getting my name and gender marker changed. What you probably don’t realize, and I certainly didn’t, is that it’s going to be a very. long. process.

It actually started two days prior on Monday, May 17… though honestly it began even months before that as I looked into what would be required. I read a bunch of information about it, and ended up on the LA Superior Court website trying to figure out how to get started.

But there’s no easy guideline or checklist of things, with links to the right forms and how/where/when to file them. You’re kind of left to your own devices, and even here in California where the process is probably about as friendly as it can get, it was overwhelming.

And here’s where living in Los Angeles gave me a cheat code through this ordeal, because we have the lovely Los Angeles LGBT Center. And they have a Trans Wellness Center, with an expert who will just… help you with your paperwork. FOR FREE.

I thought that was pretty amazing, but it was actually even better than I could have imagined because I answered 10 quick questions on a form, and they just DID ALL THE PAPERWORK FOR ME. Again, FREE OF CHARGE. So 30 minutes later I had everything I needed to get going.

As an aside, just stepping into the Trans Wellness Center was… something. An entire floor of a 20-story building JUST for trans people, staffed by trans people. Friendly and welcoming and I was super at ease as soon as I stepped off the elevator. Such an amazing resource.

Not only was I given all the paperwork I needed, but a packet with step by step instructions about what to do next. Before I get ahead of myself, let’s look at what’s in this paperwork to petition the court for a name and gender marker change.

The first document that’s required was a total surprise to me, though it makes sense. You have to testify that you’re not a sex criminal or a felon trying to evade the law or trying to change your name to evade debts, etc.

Now we get to the actual form for changing the stuff I want changed, though it’s no less intimidating or full of dense legalese that’s hard to make sense of. This document is four pages (five if you count the list of places and methods to file the form).

This is the key portion, with… some redactions.

Both original forms are signed and dated, then you make two copies of each. You put all of those along with a check or money order for the FOUR HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIVE DOLLAR COURT FILING FEE and a SASE (legal size) into an envelope and mail it to the courthouse (or drop it off).

There are (here in LA County anyway) fee waiver forms you can fill out if you are unable to pay. I don’t know what’s involved with those, but it’s great they exist.

This Monday I got the original forms back in my SASE, the court keeps both of the copies. The originals are stamped showing they were received by the city clerk, with the court case number (which you can check on the status of online here in LA), and a court date.

The packet of next steps I was given by the Trans Wellness Center said most often you are not called in for the court date, unless the judge who has to approve the order has questions or a problem of some kind.

If you DO have to go in, it’ll be in a joint session with people there to change their names for every other reason as well. The packet says if you’re concerned about privacy you can request to go to the end of the queue, though whether that’s granted or not is up to the court.

This hearing could also be to “correct any deficiencies in your petition,” which the court *may* help you with. Kinda terrifying, though. Also, and here’s the fun part, this court date is weeks away. And anyone who objects has until then to file an objection. (!!!)

I presume this is something that’s done for all petitions to the court? I don’t know as I’ve never done one before, but maybe as a way for the public to voice their objections to things? But it also seems like maaaaaaybe that shouldn’t apply for name/gender marker changes.

Because how would ANYONE have the right to object to who you want to legally be recognized as?!? That’s kind of like saying I CAN change my name and gender marker, but only if all of society is okay with it and gives me permission. Not a great feeling!

If the judge approves the request, it gets signed (and hopefully sent back to me? this part is unclear). I can then request certified copies from the Civil Clerk’s Office. Which cost about FIFTY-FIVE BUCKS EACH.

And this becomes the most important document in your life, because it shows the legal connection between your old name and your new name. I will have to take one (not a copy!) to the Social Security Administration to get their info (and my SS card) changed/updated.

I’ll need to take another copy to the DMV, to prove I am who I say I am, and get an updated driver’s license with the correct name and gender displayed. I’ll need further copies to update a passport and to get my birth certificate changed.

I don’t LEGALLY need to update the birth certificate, but if I don’t, any time I need it for anything I will ALSO need one of these certified copies of the order from the clerk to prove that birth certificate is mine.

I was born in another state, which thankfully has laws in place to allow trans people to change their birth certificates, though not all states allow it. But get this… I can’t do it without A NOTE FROM MY DOCTOR SAYING I AM “UNDERGOING TREATMENT” FOR BEING TRANS.

The actual fuck.

If you’re trans but don’t have access to gender-affirming care, or can’t afford it because your insurance won’t cover it (or you don’t have insurance), you’re out of luck I guess. Just to be clear: THIS IS BULLSHIT AND YOU ARE TRANS EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT MEDICALLY TRANSITIONING.

It says in the packet of info I got that name change proceedings for my birth state are even worse. Get this… GET THIS: You have to PUBLISH NOTICE OF YOUR COURT PETITION IN THE NEWSPAPER. –FOR THREE WEEKS–

And it has to START at least six weeks before the court date, which you don’t even know until after you file the paperwork! What antiquated bullshit nonsense is this? Do you know how fucking dangerous that could be for a trans person?!

And what the fuck business is it of the entire town you live in anyway?! Fucking hell, that’s so damned awful. And this is a state that’s relatively friendly to trans people! Do you see what we’re up against here?

I’m so thankful I’m not trying to change my name there! Part of the packet I have says a “physician’s declaration” is no longer needed in CA to get your gender marker changed… as of September of 2018.

Before that, CA refused to believe you are who you say unless a doctor confirmed your medical transition. It took CALIFORNIA until TWO THOUSAND FUCKING EIGHTEEN to just… believe you actually know who you are. Siiiiiiiiiiiigh.

California didn’t even drop the utterly ludicrous newspaper announcement requirement until 2014! I JUST 😶

Anyway, after driver’s license, birth certificate, and social security are changed, I’m going to need those official court order copies to change my name on our bank account, and our health insurance, and probably a ton of other places too.

And this is why I figure there are going to be more of these threads, as I suspect all of these hoops I have to jump through are going to uncover a whole host of other things I’ll want to talk about.

I was so excited seeing the paperwork go into the courthouse drop box, and I’m excited to know when the court date is, and to get the paper from the court legally confirming I am who I say I am…

But it feels a little like the joy from that will be somewhat muted, because there’s such a long road ahead of getting the entire world to agree with the court and update their records accordingly.

I suspect the new driver’s license will be the big one, though. Because then I’ll have ID that I can use without outing myself as trans to every person who needs to see it for whatever reason.

It’s weird and kind of awful to have to produce your DL for someone, and it has the wrong name and gender and photo on it. And it doesn’t end there, because then you have to TELL them you’re trans and explain the situation.

And this may surprise you, but that’s weirdly not something a lot of trans folks relish having to talk to strangers about! Oh well. One step at a time, I guess.

Look at the costs involved, and all the hoops to jump through, in a very trans-friendly state and with the LA LGBT Center on my side. And think about how tough it is, and how much more difficult it is for trans people not in CA. It’s tough out here.

Tilly Bridges, end transmission.
tillysbridges@gmail.com

ADDENDUMS:

UPDATE! 7/9/2021

Next step is requesting certified copies from the civil clerk’s office, but my documents say to do that after I have the signed decree. Will it be mailed to me, since I filed via mail and did not go in person? Unclear.

Either way on 7/9/2021 I legally became Tilly. 🥰

UPDATE!  7/19/2021

July 16 I paid for several certified copies of the judge’s decree. Social Security office is closed due to covid, so appropriate form and decree mailed in on July 19.

Expected wait for new SS card normally 5-10 days. Now? 3-4 weeks.

So we wait.

UPDATE! 8/16/2021

New SS card arrived in the mail today, Aug. 16!

Next: upload all my Real ID docs through the DMV website (this is unrelated to any of my changes, just normal requirements).

Once those are approved, I go in with my SS card and judge’s decree and get my new ID as ME!

UPDATE!  8/19/2021

Portrait of a lady who filed name/gender change paperwork with the DMV. It went smooth as hell. Thanks to @susanlbridges for accompanying in case anyone gave me shit, and for capturing this pic of my arm looking great.

Now we wait for the Real ID to arrive!

UPDATE: 9/1/2021

GOT MY NEW REAL ID LICENSE YESTERDAY!

I am torn on the photo. It’s not great, and does make me feel a little dysphoric. I was going to post it side by side with my old one, but not sure I’m comfortable.

So instead just know my real name is on it! 💜 oh and also:

UPDATE: 12/19/2022

I waited years to do this. You don’t use birth certificates very often and I didn’t think it would be a big deal. But finally I sent in the forms and the check to pay for the change/one copy in early October 2022 and nothing happened for two months. I was trying to prepare myself to have to fight for my right to be listed as me on my own birth certificate.

But then on Dec. 15, 2022… the check finally cleared. I almost cried. Why? What the heck? The judge’s order declaring my legal name/gender marker change, my driver’s license, those meant a lot.

But this? it shows the date, time, and location of my birth and it says I WAS ME THE SECOND I WAS BORN.

I did not expect all these feelings.