Quiet

In my DBT group today, I was thinking about how I don’t share details about my life. Other people do, and I’m one of the quietest. I was thinking about how I often feel like a ghost, especially when I’m tired like I am today. A lot of it is my reluctance to be openly queer, especially trans, in speech to strangers or minor acquaintances. It feels like a reveal, and makes me uncomfortable. In turn, I am just nothing. As far as this group knows, I am without occupation, partner, or identity. I’m a quiet white guy.

Another guy said to me afterwards that he wished I shared more because I seem like a deep thinker. He said he can tell by my eyes. I thanked him, feeling awkward. When guys say stuff like this, I feel like they are seeing my inner androgyny. I feel more like a woman. I blush, I laugh softly, I apologize, I thank, I avoid. There was a lot of irony in the interaction and my thoughts prior.

In the waiting room before group, two women were talking about trans people. One was saying her daughter showed her a video of children who go on hormone blockers. This prompted her to show her daughter a “lesbian” she knew who was on testosterone. “Would that be transgender?” she asked the other woman. I didn’t hear her response. I was trying not to listen, actually, because I was already anxious.

I’m not sure what I’m getting at with any of this. But that was my morning.