Nevada: A Novel

by Imogen Binnie

When they come out trans women tend not to have the analysis that comes from having existed in a queer community where people talk about gender;

There is this dumb thing where trans women feel like we all have to prove that we’re totally trans as fuck and there’s no doubt in our minds that we’re Really, Truly Trans. It comes from the fact that you have to prove that you’re trans to psychologists and doctors: the burden is entirely on your own shoulders to prove that you’re Really Trans in order to get any treatment at all. Meaning hormones. It is stupid and there are these hoops you have to jump through, boxes you need to check: I have only ever been attracted to men, I have never fetishized women’s clothes or done anything remotely kinky, I have never been sexual with the junk I was born with. Pretty much you have to prove that you’re totally normal and straight and not queer at all, so that if they let you transition you will be a normal het woman who doesn’t freak anybody out, and so we often, as individuals, internalize these things, and then we, as a community, often reinforce them. All of which is relevant specifically because you are supposed to have known you were trans since you were a tiny little baby.

I mean, for fuck’s sake, I cannot shut off my interior monologue without booze or pills, which sounds totally rock ’n’ roll and so high school at the same time, doesn’t it? It does, Piranha says. She pauses for a second and then goes, Rock ’n’ roll and high school are kind of the same thing, though.

Further, being irresponsible totally works out for her. The only way she’s been able to keep this job and not lose her shit completely is by taking lots of trips outside, spending lots of time reading instead of working, helping wingnut old man customers for hours at a time even though they’re not going to buy anything.

Maria knows people who transitioned years before she did, even a couple people who started transitioning like a decade before she did. They’re not fuckups. But they’re not, like, buddhas, either. She’s thought of them as buddhas, in her life, and then been disappointed when they’ve explained that their enlightenment consists of the same platitudes that every enlightenment consists of: Fuck what people think, and I dunno man, and There is no center at the center of things. It’s like, cool, but then how do you repair the damage that a fucking lifetime of not giving a fuck about your life did to you?