Androgynous Apathy
On Tuesday I returned from a few weeks spent over in the US, for many of you reading you’ll have spent time with me in joy and warmth. Truly, this second trip westward has been my favourite, photographically, artistically, really just overall lovely. And yet, I cannot talk about this journey of mine without the underlying absence of my existence as a trans woman. America is in turmoil right now, truly aren’t we all, but America in particular is running their regime in adversary to the very core of my existence: my womanhood. This tirade hung over every decision I made before travelling, to the clothes I packed, to the ones I bought specifically to hide my femininity, to the political expression I allowed myself online; America and my trip towards it governed my presentation whether I liked it or not.
And now having left the states back home to Australia, having sat in Montreal for a weekend to reminisce, I’ve left with two different thoughts that both contradict and exemplify each other. Androgyny is a funny disguise, innit? Don’t for a second think that in order to enter the United States that I detransitioned to hide myself away. I mean, on the plane ride there I did imagine what masculine name I could hide under, but when the only names I thought of were Achilles and Orpheus, did I really think I’d fool anyone? No, I always planned to bring Sapphire Lazuli, only that I thought to do so with the they to my she in a much larger font than usual. I bought pants before I left, chose each item of clothing in my suitcase with the mind that I’d remain in a vague liminality of gender and expression. I’d become something undefinable, hoping desperately that it’d be enough that the word transgender would not be able to harm me. I guess I didn’t expect to like it so much. Not the hiding, not the thinking so heavily about every action I took, not second guessing each use of the bathroom or mention of my name, no, what I didn’t expect to like so much was that exploration of my own gender. In being forced to diminish my femininity, I found an avenue to explore the non-binary side of my gender.
It’s been she/they for a long while now, though Sapphire began as they. I think there’s always been an underlying fear that to move too far from feminine, to take in any aspect of masculine or to lie somewhere in between that I’d invalidate my own transness, that the dysphoria would destroy me. This experience changed that. Allowed a new freedom that I’ve never been sure of how to unlock. There was no other choice, well, perhaps in NYC I might have been fine, but the fear of the opposite was restriction enough, and so without the choice of the feminine it removed the pressure of lying in my expression. There, androgyny became just a different aspect of Sapphire Lazuli rather than the false mask I had thought I’d be donning to hide away from transphobia and detainment. Of course, I cannot write that last sentence without admitting the pain. The fear. In that is the second thought that accompanied this newfound “freedom” of mine: the guilt. Because what an activist I am to sit here with all the privilege of a trans woman that can hide, to write on my blog about how America’s restrictions allowed me to find a new joy in expression. I was glad to leave that country despite all my love for it and the friends I have there, entering Montreal and at last donning a skirt, using women’s restrooms, living freely; there aren’t proper words to describe the enormous weight that lifted off my shoulders. I found a new kind of freedom in exploring America underneath their transphobic regime, but to say that that led me to only happiness would be a greater lie than that gender expression I’d once feared.
So now I return to Adelaide. I feel such sorrow for the trans folk of America, of the world. We are hurting so much as a people. This experience did much for me personally, but fuck if I’ll say that I couldn’t have found this elsewhere. I’ve remained quiet on politics online the past few months, my fear of what the United States would do to me in travelling, and my understanding of the lack of privilege I have as a trans woman of colour meant I favoured self preservation over outward expression. I’ve found other ways to express my political beliefs, to support where I can, even whilst there I spent much time recording a new video essay which speaks largely on the current state of the world. Now on the other end of it, I hope my voice might return much louder than before.
