Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I am tempted to think there are no little things.
—Bruce Barton
When it comes to the matter of addressing me, the majority of people in the world know nothing of who I am and what I’m going though, so it would make sense that they would address me in an overtly masculine way, because, woefully, I look like nothing but a guy.
Due to my stupid biological makeup, I am called “sir” by various people on a daily basis. Now obviously I’m trying to shake this title in a very desperate way, but as of yet, I can’t seem to. My size and my face are making this as insanely difficult as possible. (As a side note to this: GRRRRRRR)
Now when someone calls me “sir” and they don’t know me, I can shake it off. Sure it stings and it smacks me with proof that I look unquestionably male to anyone and everyone I happen across on the street (especially because there’s not even a hesitation or moment of uncertainty with the word “sir”, it just flows out naturally and completely unquestioned). Of course this hurts a tad, but I can deal with it… for the moment.
The real problem arises when one of these vague male monikers gets thrown at me from people who know me and know what’s going on with me. I get that I look like a guy; I intently abhor that fact, and I’m trying with utmost desperation to change it, but I understand that that’s how I look. However, the people who know me and know how much pain all this trans business is causing me… well, I think they should be able to look past the external, if even just a little bit. I mean, if you talk to me for more than a few minutes I think that it becomes pretty damn apparent that I’m not just some other dude* that you happen to know, and if you and I are close, we’ve probably spent more than a few minutes talking.
Additionally, since I’m “out” to pretty much everyone in my life, when one of the people who supposedly knows me best calls me “sir”, or “mister”, or “brother”, or even just refers to me as a “guy”, it’s like a shallow cut—one that won’t in any way seriously harm me, but if I get enough of them at once, I will slowly start to bleed out. Basically, it all adds up.
That being said, I’m painfully aware of how I live in the world at the present time, and though I don’t like the words “him” and “he” when used to refer to me, I realize that it’s tough to shake off pronouns in day-to-day conversation without sounding like you’re talking in an odd fashion. So when people speak of me, it’s much less of a big deal when they use these pronouns, especially since saying “she” and “her” in mixed company would only lead to confusion, which would only make me uncomfortable, which would only exacerbate my craziness. (As an aside to this, some people I know have stopped using pronouns altogether when it pertains to me, and I rarely, RARELY do. It’s not a super-easy adjustment, but it can certainly be done and be done in a relatively seamless fashion.)
There’s also the issue of my name, and where I used to have a major problem with it in the past, it’s just a name to me now, and basically it’s just something that I happen to be called. Calling me by a female name at this point in time would also only cause confusion and problems, so I can live with this boy name for now. It would be nice if people called me by a new name after I made the public switch, but for now, the name I have will do. Plus I can keep partially sane by telling myself that my name could be a female name anyway, if you just add “ie” to the end of it.
So pronouns, my name, stuff like that… it’s not really the issue. The problem I have is with words like “sir” and “mister” and “brother”, and this is because they’re easy to avoid and no conversational problems arise from not using them; in short, they’re tremendously superfluous. More times than not there’s no reason for a friend to be using these words except in an attempt to convey closeness. When someone calls me “brother”, for instance, I understand that they do it as a sign of endearment. What I need people to understand, however, is that this term is wholly UNendearing to me. As a matter of fact, when people address me as such, all I can think is that this person either has ZERO idea of what’s going on with me (which is especially maddening if we’ve discussed my situation in great detail), or that they just don’t give a shit. Needless to say, neither one of these is good, and people who habitually call me “sir” or “brother” get tough for me to be around for any extended period of time because it truly starts to grate after a while. So, here they are thinking that they’re saying something to promote closeness, but, if they thought about it for all of two seconds, they would realize that these words only make me feel bad, and by using them they’ll actually only push me further and further away.
So the point to all of this is to say that I get the everyday, near-unavoidable masculine language coming at me. I’m not thrilled about it, but I get it and it’s okay… at least until I make a major change regarding how I present myself to the world at large. What rankles me are the unnecessary male terms that are laden upon me by people who claim to be friends. I already have enough of this language assailing me without someone calling me “sir” or “mister” just to be “fun” and “witty”. If a “close” friend can’t understand why this is problematic to me, what does this say about their understanding of who I am as a person, and what hope do I have of the rest of the anonymous, uncaring world calling me by the correct terms when the time comes?
This is what I think about when someone calls me “sir”, or “mister”, or “brother”. As I’m sure you can see by now, it’s not appreciated.
Thanks for reading my rant. I hope all is well in your world, and that people aren’t calling you things that frustrate you and make you sad.
* The word “dude” is a funny one because I’m of the thought that it can be a very unisex term. I “dude” women, and I know women who “dude” other women, as in, “Dude, that was a crazy party the other night.” This is in no way a problem if said to me. However, just like any other woman wouldn’t want to be described as “some dude I know” or “that dude over there”, neither do I. So in this case, it’s not just about the word, it’s about usage.
