Sometimes, people get impatient with “us trannies”. We complain a lot. We whinge. Obviously, we have “victim mentality” and should just get over it.
And I agree. Sometimes.
There are those who are broken, have been broken by years of fighting for stuff they should never have had to fight for and now they don’t know how to do anything except fight. Kick a dog often enough and, it will bite, even when the hand stretched out towards it is offering a biscuit and not threatening to hit it.
But. But. I can see why.
I expect the phobes to phobe. Homophobes will kick the shit out of gays…transphobes will beat up trannies…and most of the time, they’re quite happy to swap targets. After all, as those helpful men in white coats have told them time and time again: trans is just some sort of species of fag, innit?
Recently I heard of someone who suspected a campaign against her by the local BNP. Yep. That doesn’t surprise. After all, they’re pretty gittish too, and you don’t expect them to engage in the finer points of intellectual debate.
Yes: I expect the phobes to phobe and after a while you get used to it: you learn to walk in the better-lit areas and not to take certain “risks”. By risk, of course, I mean “perfectly ordinary behaviour that straight folk and cis folk will do without giving it a second thought”.
What gets me, what leaves me spitting, sometimes – and crying at others – is just how difficult even everyday life can be. Like getting a credit card. I won’t bore with the details here (that’s for a later post). Suffice it to say that its nothing to do with the deed poll thing and everything to do with the fact that BHS, who ought to be female-friendly, apparently aren’t, and credit agency Equifax, who love to live up to their reputation of faceless bureaucracy, are mostly being just that.
Their “procedures” – for that is all they are – are really not well fitted for dealing with anything out of the ordinary. And trans is out of the ordinary. So they’ve bounced my card application, which is their prerogative: but in order to unbounce it, I need to jump through all manner of hoops because “its our process”. What do I do? Prostrate myself before them and explain myself in excruciating detail: look folks, I’m a tranny weirdo, so you need to take special consideration of me?
Or do I try, thru gritted teeth, to explain that it is just possible that there are circumstances that are exceptional and that the human, human thing to do is have some sort of “exception process” that cuts through the inhumanity of impersonal call centres and absolute rules. (Of course, as consultant, I know that is best practice: just a shame that BHS and Equifax don’t subscribe to it).
It didn’t much help that yesterday I was uber-patronised by a Lloyds Bank Manager. That needs following up.
Anyway. Its not the phobes. They might leave me physically hurt – but they don’t really do my head in. Not the way ordinary, everyday “procedures” do. Procedures make me cross. Very cross. They have to.
Because if I didn’t, I would end up curled in a corner crying. Which is what I’ve felt like doing for much of the last week.