TransGriot Note: The thoughts of author Pamela Hayes
I don’t want anyone to think that I hate trans women because I do
not. I am a trans woman, who doesn’t care if a trans girl is pre or post
op. I have something in common with her. We all could find ourselves on
the receiving end of discrimination.
Violence could be perpetrated against us.
We all are ridiculed. Mocked. There are men who have sex with us, but behind our backs make fun of us to other people.
So we trans women are in this together.
But
I find it infinitely easier to deal with mainstream society and natal
women and men than SOME trans people. It is easier for me, a trans
woman, to be in mainstream society with a reputation as a trans woman
than it is being a trans woman in the trans community.
To put it
bluntly, some t-girls are hard to deal with. Unless you’re in the same
boat she’s in, she is not your ally.
In
the straight community, I can put on a dab of makeup, a casual outfit
and my earrings and I’m told that I look nice and I receive compliments. Great! Most people are truly warm and receptive to me.
But
when I’m around some transsexuals, I can feel the shade. They feel that
I should have on more makeup. One time, Miss Ava Loren, who fancied
herself an expert makeup artist, painted me.
She applied
heavy foundation and eyeliner and gobs of green eye shadow. She put on
lip liner, followed by lipstick and then lip gloss. “Girl, you look
fierce,” she exclaimed, looking at me, admiring her handiwork, I
suppose.
I took a look at myself in the mirror and I was horrified.
With
all that damn gloss, my mouth was so greasy looking, it appeared as if I
ate a 10 piece bucket of KFC and neglected to wipe my mouth.
Ava
and I had planned to hit the mall and I was not venturing outside with
all that shit smeared on my face. “This isn’t me. I’m going to wash this
off,” I told her. Her expression indicated that she didn‘t like hearing
that.
“Don’t make me no never mind,” she said.
So,
I redid my makeup. “Humph!” She sucked her teeth. Examining her
garishly painted acrylic nails, she said, “Now, you look like regular
fish.”
“That’s my objective,“ I said, resisting the urge
to cuss Ava out for having a smelly attitude. I didn't want to parade
around in all that ridiculous looking makeup. She acted like I stole her
hormones.
And my 6’1 stature is
an issue with trans girls who are shorter. I love being tall. Sometimes,
it is a challenge finding clothes that are long enough. And some
t-girls have denigrated me for being tall. But when my life is compared
to theirs, I can say, I did it. I went from a gay man to a pre-op to a
post-op who functions in mainstream society as a woman. And I can say cheerily, I am not doing it in stealth.
I
have a family, a home. My husband makes terrific money and he is
generous to me. I have free reign with the money and credit cards. And
some of the trans girls have accused me of lying about my wonderful
life.
Those bitches are just jealous. But for those types, I’m not tolerating their pathetic shit. I refuse to be around them. What
I’ve done. They could do it too. If a trans woman can stomach some of
the annoying, petty crap that goes on in the t-community--the shade.
Jealous trans women hating on you, running around badmouthing you to
people because she’s envious.
Trans women fighting over
“tranny chasers” who don’t give a damn about them. If you can endure
that, and God knows, I couldn’t, you can take the bit of iciness that
you may encounter in mainstream society. Believe me, it’s much easier to
deal with.
