Trick or Treat

When there are other people in the bathroom

I control the speed of my stream of urine

because I don’t want to call attention

to the fact that I am not urinating

out of a standard-issue cock.


In public

I make sure to not cross my legs too tightly

that my shoulders are held back as far as they can go

that my jeans reveal as little hip as possible.


And I’m fucking sick of it.


This internal ticker tape of gendered reminders

is most like living Halloween every day.

Some of us call it ‘passing’

but really

it’s like ripping me out of my skin

putting on a shirt to bind my chest

popping in a laugh track

and sewing my skin back over top of it.

Nice and tight.


Trick or treat! I smile.


Because when I am not being read as a boy scout

I am desperately searching to fit into a system

that sees me only for my differences.


“Come back for candy when you put on a costume, kid.”

Fair enough.

Fair enough.



One Response to “Trick or Treat”
  1. Lane says:

    This is a good description of how I feel when I’m trying to pass. I sometimes like it in a costume party sort of way, but mostly I just want to be myself and not worry about it. I keep hoping that once I’ve been on testosterone for a while, the physical changes plus the masculine attributes that come naturally to me will be enough that I can stop worrying about “passing.”

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