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Support can mean a world of difference. Recently I had to leave my previous place of employment in order to find a new one that would allow me time for college. I ended up at my previous job simply because I could make it work to my advantage. I started work at Wal-Mart the beginning of last month, and while I will fore warn anyone that it is not the ideal place of employment for me, it is not as bad as they say. I’d left Wal-Mart previously because I want a job I felt safe transitioning at, and I wanted more money. (Doesn’t everyone?) More money meant more problems and I never felt safe in the warehouse. Which says a lot about where I used to work. I’m not intimidated by the consequences of other people’s closed minds, but I am intimidated by violence. I went back to Wal-Mart eager to start moving forward in my life. I came out to everyone in orientation. They could like me or not like me. I was a bit taken back to learn I couldn’t wear the Name “BEN” But instead had to wear some derivative of my legal name, which currently does not match my identity. At first I was a bit outraged, but instead of losing my cool I spoke to a manager I trusted. “Surely” I thought, “I can’t be the only transgender person in the entire company.” So I explained to him the best way I knew that I couldn’t afford to change my name just yet. Between the pay cut and college, let’s face it folks, I’m barely eking by. I’ve no regrets! I explained to him the difficulty of trying to present myself as a man when being forced to wear a name badge with a female’s name. He was kind and courteous, though I could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to handle my complaint. He told me he would find out for me, and he did. A week later I got called back to the office, I’d been bugging him all day about it. He and the Personnel manager had researched the policy for helping out a transgender associate. I was kind of shocked that there is a policy for that. Hidden deep in books, but it’s there. My manager explained to me that not only could I have my name badge, but I could ask for the proper pronouns, and not fear discrimination. His conviction as he told me this and asked me what name I was to be called and what pronouns I preferred filled me full of hope. Finally I get my own personal victory. Sometimes Support can make the difference between night and day.

Glad Introductions are over. Let’s talk about Genital Fixation. I’m a student. The awkwardness never ends there. Every few months I have to introduce myself to new people. I used to love that kind of life event. Now I forever despise it. Mostly I’m sure because it means coming out to new people, and while I don’t regret for a moment coming out I sometimes find doing so over and over a rather tiresome event. I frequently refer to my life as the picture perfect awkwardness that comes from a society that assumes it knows everything. I think that being honest about who I really am is awkward for other people. I feel sorry for them. I also feel sorry for the lack of education on Trans-matters. I look to the news for some kind of…help on this. Nothing positive there. There seems to be a rather…unexplainable Genital fixation that no one addresses. What about how we feel? I feel good today, my binder isn't itchy yet, and my bobs* are still in place. I feel free. Why, Ben? Why do you feel free? I feel free because I know no matter what happens today I’m not lying to the new people about who I am. Well I feel free for like two minutes. Then the questions come. I was raised to always tell the truth. Always. I feel like if they ask, I've got to answer. Some people say the best thing to do is tell them to Google their questions. I tried googling it myself. Some information out there is flat out wrong. Some information is out dated. I don’t think telling people to Google it is at all a good idea. The internet is not always a friendly place. Still I don’t like to be asked, “So how big is it gonna be?” ( It meaning my Penis….) Or “Is it gonna be the right color?” So before it gets to that I answer the first genital related question with, “It’s like expecting a baby. I’ve no Idea how it’s going to turn out, or how expensive it will be, but it will be worth it. So no I can’t tell you anything about that, and even if I could don’t ask.” It came as a shock to me the amount of things people don’t realize about someone else’s lifestyle. My mom assumed that since I’m now a man I don’t care what I look like as long as I look like a man. She’s wrong. She thought because I’m a man I’d want to go out and ride dirt bikes instead of decorate cakes. She’s wrong. The oversaturation of a clearly dictated gender binary sometimes overwhelms me. I think the hardest thing for people to understand is that we aren’t trying to be different people. We were always these people, we’re just getting better at expressing it now. So it was with utter lack of grace that my internet campaign was started…. Rome was not built in a day, I know, but maybe by the time my nieces and nephews are my age they won’t have to pity other people’s awkward genital focused attitudes. Or if it isn’t about my genitals it’s about my bobs1. I’m a trans-man. I don’t ever want to talk about boobs. I don’t care if you’re jealous of mine…Take them! Take them, PLEASE! It grates against every fiber of my being to talk with people whom think I’m just uncomfortable with my body. I’m not a fan of plastic surgery. I’m not vain. Okay… maybe just a little. I like to look nice, doesn't everyone? To me looking nice is not about the perfection of your body and how your clothes fit. But rather the way you feel inside your body and how you feel about yourself. My bobs are too big. I’m on no supermodel in any sense of the words, but they feel wrong. Convexly the nakedness downstairs also presents a confidence issue. When people tell me I’m a pretty girl, I want to kick bite and scream. “I’m a Man!” There is more to a woman than being pretty and more to being a man than having a penis, but I digress. Instead of biting I simply state my disagreement. It's difficult to resist the urge to not be quite as polite. Frequently I must remind myself that I'm not alone. Frequently I tell myself attitudes will change, and will myself to be nice. First impressions are important especially when you may be someone's first impression of a group they know very little about. I tell myself for every Cisgender person I educate, I save the next Transgender person the irritation. Maybe just maybe someday I'll just be some guy who used to look like a girl. Next topic: Support. (Not so much of a rant.) Bobs is what this transman calls his large saggy man boobs. It’s boobs minus an "o", because they’re on a man.