This blog entry is a continuation of a previous post, On Being Transgender, Part I

In this week’s episode the Kat is out of the bag as I finally come out to Devyn and Ryan confronts me about his suspicions.  Oh and I also make a fool of myself in Gettysburg, good times.  Episode six reminds me of a few times in my life where there were those close to me – friends, co-workers, people I’d been dating – who I knew had questions but I never addressed them until forced to do so.  And much like those times, this too was spawned by the rumors of a gossipy little devil who feels that everybody’s business is their business.  We also see the beginning of the divide between the sexes, one which at this point was a long time coming.

My conversation with Ryan was awkward and uncomfortable on its own merit and was only exacerbated by the presence of the hungry, gluttonous camera.  It feels odd and insulting to hear Ryan say that I am “so much more comfortable” because I finally “came clean” about my Transgender status.  As if to imply that I was at one point “dirty” because of it.  What aggravates me the most about his statement though is that it feeds into general assumption that Trans people need to disclose in order to have a friendship or relationship with someone.  That assumption is of course wrong.

My being Trans was never something I was trying to hide.  It’s a part of who I am, part of my life story, and is something that I typically reserve only for those I deem trustworthy and deserving.  If Sarah’s past had been extracted from her so viciously would you still agree that things were better because of it?  Or would you feel repulsed by the individual(s) talking behind her back, demanding that she reveal the most intimate and personal parts of herself?

You quick and dimwitted whose knee-jerk rebuttal is “now hold on, that’s not the same thing” can shut your mouths.  It is times like these wherein I lose faith in humanity.  Every time a new caveat to the human existence comes around it is treated the same way: you are different than I? I am King and you are peasant.  You are different than I? Woman is tantamount to property.  You are different than I? Your skin is pigmented and you are slave.  You are different than I? You will adhere to the standards I set, and I deem acceptable.  You are different than I?  You shall be beaten, raped, and murdered for walking your own path. For being different.

The audacity someone must have for being human, for thinking freely, for feeling and being true to themselves.

I hate to bring up a dead subject, but going back to the commentary I received on the “African American” conversation, the “it’s always been that way” mentality.  “It’s always been that way, so why bother?”  Yes, why bother questioning anything?  Let us all lead a singular, cookie-cutter existence; we will be white-collar day-laborer suburbanites who struggle to keep up with the Joneses.  Different is bad, and we are taught bad is evil, and evil is to be smited.  So why question anything about our lives or the way things are?  What a simple and carefree existence it must be to be so blindly led by the hand.

Are you shocked by the anger in my words?  You shouldn’t be, for it was born of your actions; for every name on rememberingourdead.org, for every comment on this very site from the self-righteous who feel the need to correct my gender identity with their male pronouns, for every time some narrow-minded parasite tells me I am wrong for my “decision”.  Every bit of it a piece of kindling for my fire.

This is just a fraction of what I and those like me must face on a daily basis.  This is part of what it means to be Transgender.

Tune in to The Real World: Brooklyn Wednesdays at 10pm on MTV
And Check this never-before-seen footage of Kat's trip to Thailand.

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