As a man...

 Some unpacking.

In a previous entry, I said I had some trouble standing up and saying that I am a man, because of all the negative connotations that go with that word. Call me a boy, call me a guy, call me a transguy, call me a son-of-a-bitch, I don't care. But "MAN" is hard. This entry is an attempt to get me more comfortable with the idea of being what I am.

As a man, I will:

• Not lose touch with my sensitivity to other's needs
• Not contribute to toxic masculinity, and respect women
• Be the best example to other transmen (and people in general) I can possibly be
• Not oppress others
• Love myself through my transition
• Not "overdo it" by shunning things considered feminine in my life if I like them
• Not hurt myself by taking things too fast
• Hope for acceptance from my mother, but not expect it

I think that's a good start. I don't have to, and don't want to be, Arnold Schwarzenegger or John Wayne. I can't relate to the super-masculine, look-at-my-muscles culture, and I don't want to. I will be my own man. Morgan Edwin Odysseus Wagner is a fabulous, artsy, pansexual, polyamorous man, and he's ready to get used to being called a man in addition to "boy" or "guy" or "dude." You can call me a man, because that's what I am. 

As a side-note, I think those commercials for testosterone supplements are the epitome of what I don't want to be, and they're kind of triggery. Gross.

Holy shit: Male privilege.

 I was just thinking that I have a huge advantage over J. and any other trans person who has a job: I don't have to worry about "coming out" at work. I feel like I've been on fast-forward, and I think that's one of the biggest reasons. I can ask for male pronouns and use the men's room and correct people about calling me "ma'am" and such. I do consider myself to be out "full-time," because I have no reason not to be. 

But my wife will have a lengthy coming-out process at work. Thank the gods, she works for a company who are extremely accommodating of trans employees. If she didn't, though, and we didn't live in a state with protections, she could be in danger of losing her job. We could lose everything because of who we are. I guess even my wife is privileged in that respect.

But not as privileged as I am. As an unemployed, disabled transman living in a state with protections, I can be as out and loud as I want, even though I still have breasts. (I have been hiding them under baggy clothing.) Jaymie has to worry every day. She is much more vulnerable, as a person of greater stature (and I am 300 lbs) to stares, whispers, ridicule, and the like.

This is my first taste of male privilege, and I'd like to spit it out. The disparity between my day-to-day acceptance and hers will increase long before it evens out. It makes me sick to think about. I will defend her to the ends of the universe, of course, but that's not the point. I shouldn't have to. 

People are dicks.