We are so concerned about our “passibility” quotient that it can at times completely overwhelm us, to the exclusion of many other important aspects of our lives. We beat up on ourselves; become our own harshest critics because of who we see looking back at us in the mirror. Are my shoulders too wide? Thank goodness shoulder pads are back.

I am guilty of these same self-critiques just as much as anyone else is, despite having gone through great lengths and expense to modify my face and parts of my body to correspond with that of a cisgender female. I am fortunate to say that I never get “clocked”, and I am currently living in stealth mode. Despite this, I sometimes look in the mirror and see nothing but imperfection. Telltale hints of my hidden masculinity. A little too much jaw muscle right there. I am so sorely tempted to do what I have done in the past: throw down exorbitant amounts of cash on the desks of surgeons to remedy what I perceive to be major imperfections. It reminds me of the old joke: “Q: What is the difference between someone who is transgender, and a transsexual?” “A: About $45,000. But where does this end? When do we reach the point where we are finished?

This is a dangerous time for me, because I recognize that there is a glaring mismatch between how I often perceive myself, and how others perceive me. Have I come to the point where I am “good enough”? Are the standards that I am attempting to adhere to impossible, even for cisgender women?

There are some subtle hints that my mind gives me that tell me that I am for the most part “just right”. For one, the subject of SRS: SRS for me is not a desired option. I enjoy having a penis for aesthetic reasons, although HRT has rendered it virtually useless. I think that it makes me more erotic, more exotic, more interesting sexually. When at an outdoor concert or event in which Port-A-Potties are present, it’s not a bad thing to be able to take advantage of this biology, given their general cleanliness (or lack thereof). I enjoy being penetrated, but I have never had the desire to feel that sensation in any other area of my body beyond those areas that currently exist. I really do want to undergo an orchi, but not vaginoplasty. In medical terms, it would eliminate my need to take anti-androgen medications. I would not be so susceptible to the discomfort associated constantly “tucking” and all of the attendant skin issues that this brings about. I would finally be able to wear those sexy skinny jeans I bought earlier this year.

Maybe I am happier therefore to exist as a “third sex”. And being that this is so, can I be more forgiving of my superimposed maleness that may or may not be present in my body and face? Can we all be? Not at this point in time, I’m afraid. Honestly, I am a chickenshit. I’m not that much of a pioneer. I’m not that brave. Until we live in a society in which gender and gender identity are generally recognized and accepted as having great fluidity, we are at great personal risk. We cannot deny that people (men) want to injure and kill us because of who we are. Maybe there will come a time when we are accepted, not merely tolerated, for who we are, the way we are. A day when we can finally dismount this mirrored merry-go-round, where surgeon-saints hold brass rings just outside our reach. Until then, we cannot help but to overly critique ourselves, make ourselves nuts, and spend oodles of cash chasing the rainbow.