@vivariumvivariumsvivaria
butterflyHatched can you help me understand the specifics of what you do when you are "presenting in a particular way" ?
I'd really like to understand what that means, if you don't mind sharing.
Sure! I'll try and describe, though it's difficult - gender isn't really a conscious thing that I do or don't do. My 'performance' of it is reflexive; it's baked into my 'performance' of adulthood as I grew into both at the same time. It's changed over time - I'm in my late thirties now, and the way society treats you as you move toward middle age does change, alongside society itself changing over time anyway - but I'll give it a go.
My dysphoria was never about pretty dresses or pink toys; it was about looking in the mirror and seeing that the face that looked back wasn't really mine. Seeing (and hearing) the changes that male puberty was having on my body and realising that they weren't just ordinary teenage-angst levels of uncomfortable and self-esteem shaking, but actively incongruous despair-inducing horror.
I'd always been quite an 'effeminate' looking boy - my puberty was decidedly sluggish, enough for it to be commented on by clinicians at GIDS and later the GIC, who theorised I might have had MAIS (mild androgen insensitivity syndrome). When it finally started really kicking in, it was a source of serious despair - enough to drive me to ask for help.
It's a cliche, but I felt that I was a girl watching my body become a man's, and being expected to behave in ways that made me profoundly uncomfortable as a result. I just couldn't do maleness. I hated it in ways that are hard to express in words.
So I just...didn't. I sought out treatment that averted the course of my puberty (blockers), and wham - half the daily desperate suicide-looming dysphoria went away - then a few years later, as soon as I was allowed, started taking CSH to point my puberty in the 'right' direction. And most of the rest of the dysphoria went away.
At first, I was very careful how I dressed - in my mid-teens, I looked androgynous enough that I could happily use goth fashion cues to tip the scales toward being read as female, and it seemed important to do so in order to communicate past the ambiguity. As I moved into my late teens and the estrogen kicked in, it became nigh-impossible for me to even 'pass' as male if I tried. And that worked for me! I'd always connected with both 'sides' of my social group at school - the small group who'd accepted my gender nonconformism, that is - and the other girls increasingly took me under their wing as I gravitated over to their 'side' until I was just one of the gang. I was thus trained (socialised) to behave as young boy, a teenage boy/girl hybrid, and an adult woman.
I went to uni at the other end of the country and, for my own safety, disconnected from my old social group entirely; I started a new life where nobody knew I was trans; where nobody even knew it was possible for a trans person to look like me, and just got on with it, making a range of friends of different genders. By default, I was included in the 'women-only' treehouse in daily life - and likewise, subjected to the usual patriarchical oppression bullshit; I'm paid less than my male colleagues, I'm constantly talked over in meetings, it's baseline assumed I have a surface-only grasp on subjects under discussion. I'm expected to be the mediator; to always be 'kind' and 'neat' and 'nice'. Every day is 'comment on your appearance' day; I can't recieve compliments without having to deflect.
I've always been very careful to be respectful when orbiting parts of womanhood that don't apply to me -fertility and pregnancy, and the logistical nightmares and patriarchal bullshit that surround them, for example- while listening to and supporting the voices of women within those arenas.
Throughout my life, I generally found I was able to connect with everyone - to understand everyone's perspectives. As my proximity to those early awkward experiences of trying and failing to negotiate maleness faded, so too did even the faintest shreds of any sympathy for toxic behaviours in adult men. I understood, vaguely, how they happened, but with that understanding came an acute awareness of the importance of addressing them.
I had the freedom to dress pretty much however I wanted - I eventually settled on a range of styles that channeled the early-mid 2000's goth-industrial-gamer-geek aesthetic, and over time my interactions with lesbian culture helped me gravitate toward having the confidence to explore my own relationship to 'butchness' - something I'd have never have dared to do in my early twenties.
When we see trans women performing a hyper-concentrated version of femininity - the kind that sometimes leads to reflexive eye-rolling and (fair) accusations of regressive stereotype reinforcement - it's important to remember the underlying factors at work. If you can't just rely on being treated in a particular way due to baseline appearance, you have to find ways to compensate; to signal to others how you wish to be engaged with. This sometimes actually manifests in modes of expression that actually end up making it harder to pass - a striking outfit draws attention and scrutiny, after all! The same goes for trans men as well, especially younger trans men who are trying to project masculinity - that can easily turn into projecting a sort of age-skewed teenage uncertainty/insecurity which is easy to spot for those who have experience of it. It's quite a bind, and never a fun conversation to have!
It's important to remember that the things we learned in our teens - I won't say effortlessly, but at least as part of our general 'growing up' experience - are things that are harder to learn after the fact, and often come across as dissonant when practiced.
I think social gender roles are largely bullshit but they are, still, alas, the way that our society operates, and if you can't rely on baseline physical appearance to signal how you'd like to be treated, then there are modes of dress and behaviour that can help.