When you spotted me and my wife entering your store, were you afraid? Or maybe just annoyed? I’m sure you know I wasn’t there to make your life any harder, we were just another pair of out-of-towners looking for deals. But you clocked me for sure, and I you soon after, and then it was clear that you weren’t going to acknowledge me in any way. In fact, my wife and I found ourselves sitting in need of assistance for quite some time while you found other things to do, until one of your colleagues noticed and took pity on us. As we went to check out it became increasingly apparent the exaggerated degree to which you were trying to avoid me, down to darting around me with your gaze averted and making up an excuse to ditch the register as soon as we reached the end of the line. I wouldn’t have noticed or cared at all if we had made quick eye contact, like people normally do when passing close by each other, but the effort you were putting in to avoid looking in my general direction bordered on ludicrous.
How many times has this scenario played out for you? You find yourself suddenly in the presence of another trans woman, and feel the need to put as much distance between you and her as possible? Had something happened in the past that embarrassed or threatened you in front of your customers to provoke this kind of behavior? I’m reflecting on the old advice given to trans women in the 20th century: leave your family, skip town, start fresh in stealth. You looked to be at least 50, is that something you had to do? Was I risking your cover, drawing comparison by standing next to you?
Or maybe it was more my appearance that was the problem - very tall, clocky face, purple hair. Feminine, queer, obviously trans. So many women your age were exposed to ideas about “true transsexuals” - straight, gender stereotype conforming, always knew from the moment they put on mommy’s high heels. Did you see me as just some AGP scum, a fetishistic pervert, while you, a real woman, were “doing transition right”? Our encounter left me feeling fearful that you were disgusted by me.
I have to admit, I found you really striking. Once you caught my attention, I saw how good of a salesperson you were with the other customers. You clearly excelled at your job, and looked good while doing it. Despite living in the big city, I don’t cross paths with older trans women usually. I’m so curious about what it must have been like to come out and transition 15, 20 years ago or more, and would relish the opportunity to sit down for tea with someone with your experience. I wonder about what it feels like to you now, now that our world is both more accepting and tinged with overt hate. Is life better or worse for you? When you started, did you have anyone more experienced to talk with?
I hope you know that I would never want to out you against your will, and that I know stealth is for many trans women a guarantee of safety. I can see how if you had been stealth for a long time, getting clocked might feel like a threat to guard against. But after the way you treated me in your store, I feel a little hurt, and wonder if it was necessary that you acted the way you did. Would it surprise you to know that of all of the people I interacted with in your town during the few days my wife and I visited, the one most cold towards me was you, another trans woman?
I hope you’re not lonely.
Erin