By Loree
Cook-Daniels
_____________________________________________________
She's the kind of butch any femme would want: kind and thoughtful,
mature and funny, politically aware and playful, handsome and great
in bed. You've been soaring on cloud nine since the two of you got
together.
There's just one little problem that threatens to bring the whole
wonderful lovership to a crashing halt.
She says that despite her female body, she's actually a man.
And she -- or should it be "he"? -- intends to live as one.
Dyed-in-the-wool, activist, out, proud lesbian feminist that I am,
I've always understood that the social myths that lesbians just want
to be men or actually want male lovers but can't catch any are exactly
that: myths. Confronted by my new lesbian love's assertion that she
was a female-to-male transsexual, I was therefore more than a little
confounded. No lesbian I'd ever heard of had gone down this road before,
and, I finally decided, I was not going to be first. Tearfully, I
gave my new love an ultimatum: she could either have me or live as
a man, but not both.
For nine mostly-silent years I thought Marcelle and I were the world's
only lesbian feminist couple hiding one partner's transsexual feelings.
When I finally decided I could no longer in good conscience block
Marcelle's transition from female to male, one of the tasks I most
dreaded was having to tell everyone who knew us as lesbians the truth:
this particular lesbian was, in fact, a man, and her -- his -- lesbian
lover was going to stay with him.
I expected rejection. I expected incredulity. I expected anger. I
expected curiosity. What I did not expect was what I found. Out of
the first 30 or so coupled lesbian friends we talked to, threeadmitted
that one of the partners felt she was also a female-to-male transsexual
(FTM). A fourth lesbian friend said she had struggled with the question
for many years before deciding to keep her female body and role. During
the whole nine years Marcelle and I had grappled in isolation with
that invisible elephant in the living room, other lesbians we knew
and socialized with were cohabitating with the same beast!
Like the early feminists shocked into politicization as a result
of sharing their personal lives in consciousness-raising groups, my
discovery of the hidden undercurrent of transsexual feelings in the
lesbian community radicalized me. In part to atone for the pain I'd
caused Marcelle with my ultimatum, in part to continue Marcelle's
and my long-lived advocacy for our society's "queers," and
in part to ensure no other lesbian has to cope as I did with a potentially
transsexual partner in ignorance and isolation, I've since made it
a point to publicly discuss FTMs in the lesbian community.
Luckily, other partners -- lesbian, bisexual, and straight, male
as well as female -- have been active, too. In the three short years
since Marcelle and I came out publicly about his transsexuality, lots
has happened: Five national conferences devoted to female-to-male
transsexuals which attracted some partners have taken place; an e-mail
list for partners of FTMs has flourished; Minnie Bruce Pratt's book
S/he about her transgendered lover Leslie Feinberg was published;
a 10-page list of resources for "significant others" (SOs)
of FTMs was compiled; families that include an FTM and his lesbian
lover were included in nationally-distributed photographic displays
and magazine articles; and countless partners have met each other
at FTM-oriented groups...to name but a few of the developments.
But the mushrooming of support and information networks for the lovers
of FTMs has not meant the road has been made smooth. The struggles
are still myriad, and many relationships do not survive "transition"
(the period during which a person changes from living as a woman to
living as a man). Yet having other partners to talk to means having
someone with whom one can ask questions, compare notes, and vent.
It's also allowed us to start identifying patterns among partners'
struggles. These patterns seem to hold regardless of the partner's
gender and sexual orientation identity. Nevertheless, lesbian-identified
partners' identity issues differ some from heterosexual women's identity
issues, to take but one example. This article therefore focuses particularly
on the ways lesbian-identified SOs approach the dilemmas.
You think you're a what?
Asked how she felt upon learning that her female lover believes hirself(1)
to be transgendered, one woman answered: "Numb, unsure, afraid,
happy for my partner, scared, threatened, wanting to help my partner,
needing help for myself, depressed, restless, anxious, [and] happy
that my partner is finally able to express their true feelings."
Although most partners probably wouldn't be able to articulate quite
this extensive a range of feelings upon being told of their lover's
transsexuality, it does seem that contradictory feelings are common:
"My first thought was that I would have to leave. That thought
made me very sad after all we have built up over the years. I hate
to see that go down the drain. In fact, I felt angry that I had to
walk away. Why should I? No one has ever loved me the way my partner
does. How could I settle for less? Why should I?" Another woman
said, "I really don't think I can or want to stay. Some of the
time. At other times the alternative seems much worse...I feel like
I would be letting go of a really important relationship for a 'little'
thing like gender, or a pronoun." A third acknowledged her doubts
but concluded, "I really want to see my lover more at peace with
himself on a daily basis. He just seems so tortured now."
With time, these initial gut-level, emotional reactions start getting
refined and begin to take shape as questions about identity. Although
these questions are all interrelated, they can be roughly grouped
into three categories: What does this (transsexuality) make hir?
What does it make me? And, what does it make us?
So what does this mean about who you are?
FTMs often say that they've always been male; they're just making
some physical and/or social adjustments so that other people recognize
that fact. That's not how a lot of lesbian partners see the process.
Although many always saw and often much appreciated their lover's
butchness, they say what they prize is masculinity wrapped in a woman's
body; masculinity as displayed by a man often feels totally different.
One woman commented about a photograph in Loren Cameron's seminal
FTM book, Body Alchemy: Transsexual Portraits (Cleis Press,
1996), showing Loren with his butch lover: "The picture of Kayt
and Loren arm-wrestling struck me because the line where their hands
met is the line of my desire. Kayt is totally my type. Transgendered,
male-identified in a woman's body." Another responded to a discussion
about the sexiness of butches: "I know what you mean about the
attractiveness of that look in a woman that says, 'Don't fuck with
me,' but the same look in a guy feels threatening and dangerous because
society has ingrained that in us through years of oppression and violence
towards women. Thinking of my lover as a 'man' reminds me of the mean
men in my past." Some know why this memory of past mean men is
an extremely scary proposition: "I am also a survivor of sexual
abuse, mostly at the hands of men, and I am afraid of how my partner's
transitioning might trigger me." Others can't articulate the
source of their fear, but know that it's there: "I just get nervous
thinking about being in bed with a man."
Lesbian-identified partners also worry that a transitioning spouse
may turn into Bubba, or expect her to become June Cleaver. "I
love him dearly, but if he starts wondering aloud if I shouldn't iron
his underpants, then we are gonna have problems." On a more serious
note, another woman said, "I've had to deal with the idea that
as my SO becomes a man, his power increases. To me, men are closer
than women to power, power-grabbing behavior, yelling, and physical
violence." Although these women feel they know their partners'
values and goals, they worry that hormones will change him ("the
cold voice of fear is still whispering in the back of my head: 'He's
only saying that because he's not on testosterone yet! Wait til the
hormones kick in and he loses his mind!'"), or that experiencing
male privilege will make the FTM forget or abandon the feminist principles
by which he formerly lived.
So what does this make me?
Lesbian-identified partners also worry about how their own identity
might change. It's easy to define yourself as a lesbian when everyone
can see that your partner is a woman. When your partner is a man,
however, even a strongly-held sexual orientation identity of "lesbian"
may seem less defensible. One woman said, "I'm very dyke identified.
The possibility that he might transition and 'become male' scares
me because I feel like my identity hangs in the balance." A self-described
femme echoed that feeling. "I'm really wary of giving up my identity
for someone else. That seems like such a stereotypical femme thing
to do -- 'it's o.k., honey, your identity is more important than mine.'"
On the other hand, insisting on a lesbian identity when one has an
FTM lover may feel like an undermining of his right to self-define:
"I can't in good conscience call myself a lesbian and validate
his gender identity when he isn't identifying as a woman," one
woman explained.
Some lesbians don't find the prospect of losing their lesbian credentials
all that daunting. "Where I'm from, it's been hard to find a
part of the lesbian community that fit my fat Latina hi femme meat
eating kinky sex self. Therefore, I don't have much to lose."
Another who has had bad experiences with judgmental lesbian peers
said, "I can't stomach those womyny-womyny lesbian types who
are so quick to judge. I think bisexual people are the most welcoming
component of the GLBT community to transpeople: they 'get it' (on
trans issues, on inclusion, on my identity being flexible) more than
the monosexual folks do."
So what would that make us?
Nevertheless, potential loss of the lesbian community is a big deal
to many of the partners of individuals contemplating transition. "Many
in our respective lesbian communities may feel that once-lesbian identified
transfolk and those of us lesbeens who love them are 'defectors,'"
suggested one woman. Another partner who was further along in the
process confirmed this happens. "The 'wimmin's' community suddenly
assumes that since we 'appear' hetero, we will just fit right in with
all those other hetero couples who have done absolutely no gender
analysis, etc., etc.." Yet, she says of herself and her partner,
"the truth is, we want to be in the dyke community. That is where
we both feel we belong." FTM partners also may feel keenly the
loss of the lesbian community. One woman reported how "painful"
it was for her to attend an FTM conference and "hear guys post-transition
talking about loss of community, looking for a less 'straight' identity,
missing lesbian space even if that hadn't been quite right for them
before. It made me wonder where and how we will find community."
Some women admit they helped create the community norms they now
feel exclude them. "The problem is that I like to go to lezzie
clubs and lezzie events. We like to do these things together. I would
still go with friends to do the lezzie things I want to do if it came
to that, but I want to do things like go dancing with my lover and
not have to go to a straight club. The other piece to this is that
I am part of the problem! When I was out dancing Friday night, there
were a few couples I perceived as 'straight' and also some boys there.
Who knows what paths their lives have taken, but I found myself being
irritated by their presence." Another accepted her exclusion
on the same basis: "Part of the difficulty in being with an FTM,
at least for me, is that it changes my identity from lesbian to a
FTM's SO. So if the event is for lesbians only, I don't go. I don't
think any less of the lesbian community because of that. I worked
for many years to create a space for lesbians to feel safe and free
to express themselves."
Lesbian-identified partners also worry a lot about what they'll look
like to outsiders if their partner becomes male. As one woman put
it: "Everyone will see me as straight. Damn." Femmes who
have long struggled with misperceptions of heterosexuality seem to
be especially fearful of what transition will bring. One said, "I
guess that being perceived as a heterosexual couple is really going
to be a blow for me because perceptually I will fall into
the 'heterosexual stereotype' in other people's eyes, which is what
I fought to get away from in the first place. What I'm trying to say
is I'm going to look like a 'wife' and no one will know any better.
I guess my insides would be screaming, 'I am not what you see!'"
Another could foresee a less threatening but still irritating future:
"So, okay, the whole world may perceive me as a straight woman
married to (or at least living with) a straight man. This perception
will carry with it a trainload of gender stereotypes and expectations,
which will no doubt piss me off royally on some days and just make
me laugh up my sleeve on others."
Coping with transition
Resolving these identity and community worries and dilemmas takes
time, a luxury many partners are shocked to find they don't have.
Like coming out as gay, coming to terms with being transsexual is
often a long process that goes on internally for months, years, or
even decades before the person finally starts telling others. Once
a person reaches the stage of coming out publicly, zhe's often ready
or even anxious to begin acting on the newly-embraced identity. That
means that many lesbian-identified partners of newly-proclaimed FTMs
find their partners racing toward transition with almost break-neck
speed. Even when things go a little more slowly, each step the transsexual
partner takes toward his true identity represents a step
away from the lesbian partner's preferred identity. "While
he's celebrating," one woman summarized, "you may be crying
and grieving over a loss."
It's also hard to pay attention to your own personal and relationship
issues when your partner is going through a life event as all-consuming
as changing from a female gender role to a male gender role. "Transition
is the central issue in our relationship," one woman stated.
"His struggle with gender is so consuming to both of us that
my issues in the world kind of get lost. I spend an enormous amount
of time focusing on him and his choices. I really need to think more
about what it is that I want and what choices I need to make."
Many partners struggle to balance their desire to be a loving partner
who understands and meets the transitioning partner's heightened need
for support and solace and their own need to grieve and process the
losses and doubts they are themselves feeling. Finding and keeping
this balance is a frequent topic of discussion among FTM SOs.
Sex and Drugs
Vastly complicating the emotional and practical issues lesbian-identified
partners struggle with as their partners embark on transitioning is
what's called "The Big T" -- testosterone. Getting a prescription
for testosterone is often the first exciting, concrete step a new
FTM takes. But starting sex hormones means going through another adolescence
as the body and brain adjust to a sudden rush of powerful, body-altering
chemicals. Read that: mood changes. One harried partner said, "It's
like menopause and puberty all at once sometimes."
Also read that: increased sex drive. For some female partners, this
is a highly problematic development: "I think the T has made
him a sex crazied uncaring ass. He seems to think only of himself.
I feel like a whore at times," one angry lover said. Others are
delighted: "I love having sex with him. Sex in transition is
fun for me. I love when he gets in bed and says, 'look at my body.'
He is happy about the changes. We have more fun in bed because he
can really be there in his body in bed with me."
Some couples find transition triggers body image and desirability
doubts. The FTM may be concerned about how attractive his lover will
find his masculinized body, and the female partner may worry, perhaps
unconsciously, that since the FTM has "rejected" his female
body, he must not be very attracted to her femaleness, either. Indeed,
some FTMs do have problems with their female body parts. A few women,
for instance, report that their partners do not allow vaginal penetration:
"It repulses him to be touched sexually in a way that reminds
him of his feminine body parts," said one. A few FTMs also begin
to define certain sex acts as "lesbian" and refuse to participate
in them any longer. Interestingly, exactly which acts are so labeled
differs from FTM to FTM. One partner reported that several transsexual
men she heard speak admitted they don't like to use dildos because
they remind them of "what they don't have," while another
woman said she'd found that "some FTMs feel using their hands
is too lesbian coded, as are certain aspects of oral sex." Yet
having a sense of humor and being willing to find new terms for body
parts helps, one woman responded. "Cognitive dissonance week
(his term for that time of the month when he has to use 'masculine
protection'(2)) is hard. We work around where he
is at, and sometimes the right word makes the difference. We work
around those words which to him seem so female-coded, especially in
the heat of the moment."
Further complicating the sexual picture, female partners may find
that certain turn-ons no longer work. One woman went to an FTM conference
worried about her sexual attraction to men, and was not reassured.
"I was looking at the guys there and it seemed that when guys
transitioned, many lost/gave up the tough, hard masculine edge that
they had before. I'm not sure I'd find that kind of masculinity appealing
or 'acceptable' in a man, but in butches it was something that always
carried sexual power for me. There were some guys there I could find
sort of hot if pushed, but it doesn't bode too well for me and my
partner."
Being out in public
Transition is also problematic outside the house, particularly during
the period when an FTM may be viewed as female in one situation, male
in another. "There are times when we long for the anonymity of
the straight society, like, say, when we look for a bathroom,"
one partner said. Couples also sometimes argue over who controls the
coming-out process, particularly if the FTM wants to look like and
be treated as a "normal guy" and his lover highly values
a more transgressive persona. "I continually struggle internally
with the issue of disclosure," said one woman. Yet she believes
"it's my partner's job/right/privilege to choose whom he discloses
to." Others find the dilemma more problematic: "I really
miss being a dyke. I find it is a lot easier to casually come out
as a dyke ('my girlfriend took me to a movie...') than as an FTM SO
('my boyfriend took me to a movie and by the way he used to be a woman...').
I can't figure out how to be 'out' without jeopardizing his right
to be out/not out when he wants to, because he passes most of the
time now."
When it ends
Many lesbian-identified partners -- even those who expected to be
supportive of their lovers' transition -- end up discovering that
the whole process is just too much for them to handle. One of the
few studies of FTMs' relationships found that approximately half of
the intimate relationships FTMs had established with women pre-transition
did not survive the change.(3) Yet these break-ups
are not always because the lesbian-identified partner decides she
can't cope with having an FTM lover. Indeed, many partners discover
they actually have a preference for FTMs. One said, "If my lover
and I ever break up (which I hope won't happen), I can see myself
attracted to other FTMs. Now that I've been with my lover, my immense
desire and appreciation of transsexual men is strong." Another
woman whose partner "freaked out" and left her for another
woman just days after he had surgery to remove his breasts said, "Ironically,
after he left, things became more clear for me. I realized that it
was very unlikely that I would have left him because of the transition.
I've realized that I am attracted to FTMs both pre- and post- hormones."
So many ex-partners of FTMs have decided they prefer FTMs, in fact,
that a new online support group has been formed to help such women
meet single FTMs.
Of course, one doesn't need to decide one's preference is FTMs to
maintain a relationship with one. What one does need to do
is find at least "good enough" answers to the three identity
dilemmas a transitioning partner presents one with: Who does that
make him? Who does that make me? And who does that make us? The answers,
not surprisingly, differ for each woman and each couple. But again,
there are some identifiable patterns.
Discovering what kind of man he is
One of the most helpful breakthroughs I had in coming to terms with
Marcelle's desire to transition was the realization that when I imagined
Marcelle as a man, I no longer saw Marcelle. What I saw instead was
a generic man, and not a very nice one at that. Whatever qualities
I knew my long-term lover had no longer existed in this stereotypical
man, as though Marcelle's personality and values were suddenly going
to cede the premises to the ghost of John Wayne.
Other women reach similar conclusions, particularly as transition
progresses and they discover testosterone does not automatically create
monsters. Instead of their lover adopting all the negative aspects
of masculinity, many are pleased to discover he's becoming a calmer
and happier version of the person they already loved. "My lover
will not BECOME anything different than what and who she has been
and he is. I know there will be changes, but he will never be a "MAN,"
he will just be [his name], with a body he loves and struts around
in." Others remember or discover that they have some power over
what behavior gets manifested around them: "As I am a radical
feminist, I have made it very clear what attitudes I will NOT accept
from my lover, nor from our son." Still others come to realize
that the problem isn't gender (or, more accurately, the masculine
gender), it's plain old power and control: "Anyone can have power
and control issues," pointed out one woman. "Keeping men
out of your life is no guarantee you can escape that."
Finding your own name
Some lesbian-identified partners retain their lesbian label despite
being partnered with a transsexual man. These women frequently explain
their stance by pointing out that if their relationship broke up,
they would only date women, or by asserting that the source of a person's
identity springs from within, not from hir lover's body.
More often, however, previously lesbian-identified partners adopt
a middle ground that more comfortably accommodates a male partner.
Bisexual, queer, and femme are the most popular self-identifications,
reflecting a desire to be seen as anything but straight. Indeed, making
a commitment not to fall into a straight stereotype is often a part
of this identity resolution: "It's up to me to make intelligent
choices and make sure I don't become Mrs. Cleaver!" one woman
explained. Others aren't so worried: "I think being queer is
like losing your virginity. Once you have left the straight world,
you can't go back." Sometimes FTM partners also help in this
effort to find and stay on queer land. "[My partner] adamantly
maintains he is not a straight man -- he's in a relationship with
a femme, not with a straight woman."
Making your own community
Of course, identity is closely aligned with community, and finding
a comfortable community post-transition is a challenge. Because it's
unlikely that a previously lesbian-identified partner who is happy
to blend into a heterosexual world will blow her cover by getting
involved in an FTM SO support group, we have no idea how many partners
find happiness in hetero land. Some, though, relish being the fox
in the hen house: "For me, being queer in a straight world is
a wonderful thing!"
Some women find an accepting community among bisexuals: "The
bisexual community is far more understanding and much more open-minded
than the lesbian community." Others are lucky enough to live
where an integrated "queer" community exists. Even then,
however, some of these women worry about the stability of the welcome
mat on which they stand: "I'm just glad I do so much work in
the queer community; hopefully no one would dare kick me out entirely."
Those blessed with online access can find a vibrant FTM SO community
there.
But finding a community that fully embraces both the FTM
and his female lover is difficult, and that loss of a place where
both partners are equally welcome can be a bitter pill to swallow.
"I still suffer from these occasional bouts of fear and sadness
about him not being a dyke anymore," one woman admitted. Some
couples become determined to make the community they want: "As
far as finding space for ourselves, we both do a lot of public speaking
on the matter, and I am convinced we just have to make space by educating."
Another answered, "How do you find space together? You do what
other groups (i.e., gay, lesbian, black, hispanic, feminist, etc.)
have done: you create it." And progress is being made. The second-largest
U.S. "FTM" organization, American Boyz, actually bills itself
as an "FTM and soffa (significant others, friends, family and
allies) organization." It has been growing exponentially in part
because it provides conferences and support groups where partners
are as welcome (and as liable to be leaders) as their FTM lovers.(4)
Moving beyond
Becoming an FTM requires negotiating body changes, role changes,
and changes in how others view you. The lesbian-identified partners
of FTMs endure the same changes. They must live with the altering
of a body they may have much loved. They must cope with their lover's
mood swings and the other physical and emotional changes testosterone
brings. They must adjust to the new ways people react to their partners,
and to the assumptions that are made about them now that
they appear straight. They must learn how to defend their lesbian
identity in a way they never imagined, or abandon that identity and
find (or create) a new one.
For most FTMs, the exhausting and challenging process of transition
nevertheless represents the culmination of a long-held dream or the
righting of a very old wrong. Lesbian partners, by contrast, are generally
happy with their sense of themselves in the world pre-transition;
the adaptations they must make are not ones that, left to their own
devices, they would have sought out. Yet these unexpected challenges
can bring rich rewards. One woman looked back on her process and wrote:
"I want to affirm both the hardships that can be oh so real
and the joys that can come from growing through the changes
together as my partner and I were ultimately able to do. A year ago
I could not have said this. My heart felt torn apart. I could not
believe it would be possible to get to the other side of the upheaval
in our lives. I could not fathom loving my lover in a male form. Well
it's been a long year. In retrospect, a really rich year, full of
surprises. I feel so lucky to have a lover who was willing to hang
in and honor my feelings even when they were on the other side of
the universe from his. I feel incredibly impressed with myself
both for honoring my process and being able to honor his. So
much of the time it did not feel at all like we were doing it together,
but now I see that we did and I am in awe. I know that some partners
need to leave their relationship in order to take best care of themselves.
I am personally glad that I stayed in mine. We have a great love and
that's a treasure I want to keep."
Others say that living through a partner's transition from female
to male has deepened their cultural and political understandings and
commitments in ways they could have never imagined. One said, "I
have been a fairly hardcore feminist for years, very 'anti-patriarchy'
and all that good stuff, but the more I learn about gay, lesbian,
and transgender relationships, the more I realize that negative aspects
in our culture's structure of relationships are about power and dominance
rather than gender per se. I don't think I can ever think about gender
in the same way again. Or love, for that matter." Another woman
summed it up beautifully: "I believe that our being out here
doing this soul-, mind- and heart-searching work serves to bring another
important dimension of diversity to the lesbigaytrans world. After
all, isn't questioning and redefining our world what growth and life
is all about?"
_____________________________________________________
Information about the resources for partners of FTM transsexuals and
transgendered persons mentioned in this article:
o To get information about or subscribe to the email support group
for
significant others of FTMs, see website: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FTMSOs/
o The website for single women interested in FTMs is: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FTM_n_WWLT
_____________________________________________________
1. Although FTMs are properly referred to by masculine
pronouns, pronouns present a problem for those who are speaking of
people who are still in the early stages of exploring whether or not
they are FTM and those who have chosen to occupy a middle, blended
gender ground. Although several genderless pronoun systems exist,
none has been adapted universally. For this article, I've arbitrarily
chosen to use "zhe" and "hir" whenever a person
seems not to identify with either set of gendered pronouns and when
I'm talking about both males and females.
2. Regular testosterone use does stop menses, but
it may take several months before this effect occurs. In addition,
some FTMs decide to transition without the use of testosterone.
3. Holly Devor, FTM: Female-to-Male Transsexuals
in Society, Indiana University Press, 1997, p. 363.
4. As of August 2002, AmBoyz was in reorganization
and rumors were that it was
dropping its focus on SOFFAs.
_____________________________________________________
First published in Circles Magazine, June 1998 (Circles Magazine
is published 6 times a year. Subscriptions: $24.95. 1705 Fourteenth
Street, Suite 326, Boulder, CO 90302; 303/245-8815 (telephone); 303/245-8816
(fax); 888/633-0055 (subscriptions); email: info@circlesmagazine.com
; website: http://www.circlesmagazine.com.
_____________________________________________________
Copyright © 1998 Loree
Cook-Daniels.
