Initially, in 1996, my experience in coming out as a man who had desires to become a woman had both a sense of urgency to learn more about myself and meet people and a sense of accomplishment and progress in periodically overcoming obstacles. But now, over eleven years after having decided to become public about my gender variance, I have a more settled sense of self, since I’ve come to terms with my gender variance, yet it sometimes proves, and understandably so, unsettling to others, because I have decided to remain androgynous.
In my reading, the best example of an individual who represents the gender amalgam I am is the Zuni American Indian We’Wah, about whom Will Roscoe wrote the book The Zuni Man Woman.
 Since some North American Indian tribes recognized that not all individuals feel or express the predominant pattern of masculine gender characteristics that define many males, and feminine characteristics, many females, it granted social recognition to someone like We’Wah, who though clearly having a male frame and face, took on the social role, dress, and manner of a woman. Of course, such a social identity does not exist in our society, so everyone who pursues it must blaze their own trail. Mostly, I’ve seen some young women doing just that: you approach him, and assume it’s a man, and then he begins to talk, and you realize,
“Oh, it’s a woman who looks like a man.”
My own experience in living my gender androgyny, which is at times gender ambiguous, has certainly been awkward, frustrating, and disappointing, but I believe it is better for me to endure that than to be false to myself, forcing myself to present clearly and consistently as a woman, or for that matter, a man. It seems to me that based on my reading and discussion with a few individuals that I have similar emotional and sexual inclinations as male to female transsexuals, but at the same time my temperament is that of a tomboy. Thus, much of what is associated with femininity is a turn off to me—high heels, frilly clothes, and so on. (In making this claim, I know that there are women who feel likewise, notably Helen Boyd in her recent book She’s Not the Husband I Married: My Life with a Transgender Husband).
For me to have genital surgery, while it would simplify my life in some ways, would at the same time not relieve me of my discomfort of not fitting in, not feeling like most women, not feeling comfortable in forcing myself to act in a way that is deemed feminine simply to pass at the expense of feeling I’m faking and forcing myself to do so. I can’t see myself losing my muscle mass, becoming thin, and speaking in falsetto. Perhaps the issue here is conformity: since I’m a principled nonconformist, a long-time student of literature, the die has been cast in regard to my gender nonconformity. But for someone who is by temperament a conformist, fitting in is the way of world, and fitting in, in terms of gender, would be just another instance of that.
When I legally changed my name from Andrew to Andrea in 2001, I imagined that I would start presenting myself as a woman, and take it from there, wherever that may lead. And it has led in some individual’s perception to confusion regarding my presentation. If my presentation comes across as masculine, then my name can cause perplexity. Some people ask me, “Why that name; is it foreign?!” And depending on the circumstances, the person asking, and the time I have to respond, I may talk about my transgender identity. And even if someone doesn’t venture to ask me a personal question, I believe that my name and presentation at least plant the seed in someone’s mind that gender is not a straightforward issue, nor does it have to be, though social pressures and conditioning try to simplify it.
We all respond as best we can to such conditioning, but for me to rigidly fit in and conform to gender standards of masculine man or feminine woman causes distress. I neither want to minimize or deny or hide that fact, which I spent a good portion of my adolescence and young adult life doing. To not show my transgender identity in some manner, like my name change, would constitute for me a denial and detachment from a past life that has been distorted and constricted by shame and repression. With my name change, I am redefining what has been a mark of shame (not feeling like a man) in my life, and bearing it proudly, like Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Hester Prynne, who wears the scarlet letter ‘A.’
Though I’ve taken hormones that have feminized my body and features and had electrolysis to remove my facial hair, I haven’t had an operation, nor do I plan on it, though I do not rule out that possibility. For now I’m relatively content the way I am, as are most people around me, except on some occasions. I know that there are more people like me, in particular women, who have taken hormones and look androgynous and to varying degrees like men, but this phenomenon of individuals whose gender is ambiguous or androgynous does not seem that widespread (Holly Boswell is one notable activist I can mention), nor has it drawn that much media attention. For example, most films about transgender people feature male to female transsexuals, who willingly conform to feminine gender conventions.
Well, let me touch on the issue of occasions when others and I experience discomfort as result of my gender ambiguity. Occasionally, they would arise while I was teaching, which I stopped last year (not because of my gender, but because I had gotten weary of teaching basic composition). In the same classroom, on several occasions, I was addressed as “Ms.” and as “Sir.” Though, truth be told, I’d prefer “Ms,” but I told myself, “Well, my presentation is not clearly feminine, so it provokes a variety of responses.” In a deeper sense, I thought I was being truer to my own sense of core gender identity, an amalgam of feminine and masculine, and not playing along with social conventions of gender appearance.
Reading over my course evaluations on one occasion, I came across the distraught comment of one student, who was upset that I never did declare what my gender was, and it bothered him a lot. At times, I must admit that I too felt bothered by the uncertainty of my gender presentation, but I felt at the same time I did not want to misrepresent myself or mislead people about my gender identity by clearly and distinctly presenting as a woman, nor for that matter, a man.
One of my disruptive students in a composition course, as I reminded students to discuss an essay topic amongst themselves, to entertain his fellow students, smiling, with a grin from ear to ear, whispered “faggot.” I let it go, but I probably could have talked to him after class, and explained to him that I’m not gay and that I’m transgender. It’s likely that would have hardly mattered since I would still be a freak in his mind, but one of an exotic variety. And I had decided not to make my teaching a matter of advocacy for transgender issues.
After one of my courses had ended, I met an older student in the hall, who asked me whether I was a man or a woman, and I told her I was a man. That was the short answer; the long answer would have taken several minutes, at least, or an email attachment of my essays that I have written about my gender identity and plan to soon publish in book form.
Probably, the most problematic and regrettable question about transgender individuals boils down to which bathroom to use. An easy solution would be to have a unisex, gender neutral one in public places; or some airports have washrooms marked for disabled which is unisex.
 But in practice, all public buildings haven’t been changed, nor will they any time soon, so this remains a controversial issue. Sometimes, it is resolved by allowing the transgender individual to use a washroom in some far off corner of the building, like the basement. At one temporary, clerical job, during the summer when I wasn’t teaching, this was what I did. Legally, in Illinois, since I have a letter from my therapist, have changed my name, and have had the sex
changed on my driver’s license, I am allowed to use the woman’s washroom.
My own practice is to play it by ear and try to cause the least amount of friction and disruption as possible. If my presentation is more masculine, I will use the men’s room, if more feminine, the woman’s. For example, I went to a Mardi Gras dance with a woman friend and wore a dress and makeup, and I went to the woman’s bathroom several times without incident. But a few times when I’m not sure just how my gender comes across, problems can arise, and I show my ID or leave.
The other pressing issue when you are gender ambiguous is relating to others, in particular dating and intimacy. Overall, my attraction is usually to women, but I have had a relationship with a man for several years. I have met several women who have not seemed to have regarded my gender as an impediment in relating to me, though they were uncertain with just how to handle it, since it was new and different. I do, however, feel restricted by fitting myself into a category on the online internet dating scene—male or female; it seems best if there was simply a category that was not male or female or other, a catch-all category which lumps together identities that are quite different—individuals who are interested in kinky sex, a fetish, casual sex, or who are bisexual, and transgender. Some gay-lesbian personals provide for that option.
Another awkward moment I face at times comes up in filling out forms, often asking me to click a box, male or female. Why do they need to know, I ask myself. Why not have more gender boxes, masculine, feminine, androgynous or simply transgender? I play it by ear and do what seems appropriate to the situation. For example, in filling out a passport form recently, I ticked off male, since I know you need to change your birth certificate in order to have your passport changed. But in applying to take some evening, continuing education courses at the Art Institute, I ticked off F, because I plan to present myself as a woman, and my physical body isn’t an issue, I assume.
Most transgender individuals are just trying to be themselves and not call too much attention to themselves.
Riding my bike, I have had the unpleasant experience of men in a passing car scream at me in feigned or actual delight, or a boy approach me at the water fountain and ask, “Are you a man or a woman?.” These reactions of mistaken identity and curiosity about my identity, while they are unsolicited and intrusive, also remind me that I own my identity and should therefore not conceal it.
A common misconception is that transgender individuals are attempting to deceive and mislead people. No, they are trying to be true to themselves as best they can, even if that means, as in my case, being gender ambiguous.
Note: A collection of Andrea Kaspryk’s personal essays, poetry, guided meditations, and art in manuscript form entitled, Inner Journeys: In Search of the Self, is being prepared for publication . And her-his occasional writings appear at: http://andreasfierymuse.blogspot.com.
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