Last night I had the first full, regular rehearsal with the gay men’s chorus again after the retreat two weeks ago. And it was lovely.
Having reached out to a few trusted members before the retreat and then going to the retreat itself have really helped me feel more comfortable with myself within this choir.
I think the major thing for me has been to feel safe & comfortable enough to be my true trans self within this choir. The moment I was able to internalize that as a wonderful thing (one of my superpowers, e.g. when it comes to the range of my voice), on the one hand, and to see it as something not only accepted but even celebrated by those around me in the chorus, on the other, everything shifted for the better.
I’m learning to let go with(in) this group of people in ways that are truly, authentically mine and some of which rarely have outlets. But I’m also just being myself, less afraid or worried of them not liking me because I’m trans.
I’m slowly discovering and enacting ways of being myself that I cannot fully enact with any other group of people. There’s the singing, of course, and my voice getting more confident and louder, at last, even thanks to the encouragement of more established members in my section. There’s the dancing and the gender-bending in the outfits (including my own); the playfulness; a sort of generalized flirtatiousness or affection that isn’t necessarily sexual but merely a way of expressing our belonging to a community. And then there are also deeper, more vulnerable or intense ways of showing this belonging to the community, like the ease with which many of the chorus members cry and hold each other in their tears; how they openly share anger and pain as well as joy.
And I’m finally doing it, too, letting go and just being myself, doing or saying things in my own way.
At rehearsal last night, I cried and laughed. And sang out with all the voice I had, when I had it. I wore my skinny gay-boy jeans and my tight gay-boy T-shirt with one of my trans pins: the one I got at Salt Lake City Pride with the colors of the trans flag and the words “Won’t be erased”, wearing it high on my chest. And a few of the cis gay men in the chorus were wearing T-shirts or pins in support of trans folks, too — which really warmed my heart.
After rehearsal, I went to the bar across the street to socialize with other chorus members. I teased those who said “We haven’t met before” when we actually already had and I reminded them by showing that I already knew their names. I joined conversations without necessarily waiting to be explicitly invited (& it was totally OK); I didn’t hesitate to make the first step to say “Hi” or ask “How are you doing?” to guys that I knew even just a little bit — i.e. I behaved as I usually do when I feel comfortable. When some of them were joking about the negative side effects of Viagra, I openly said, “Well, at least being trans I don’t have that problem!” and we all laughed. And when we started commenting on the dire consequences of the election results and someone (a cis gay guy) was lamenting the fact that probably one of the first measures will be to exclude trans people from the armed forces, I exclaimed, “But we don’t even have to go that far: people like me might not be able to get their meds!” and the silence and empathy that followed were just so powerful, so heartwarming…
I am a nonbinary trans gay boy and I’m finally learning to be myself authentically within this group of people, too, and this means so much to me because from these persons specifically I can get some forms of love/care/affection that I cannot get elsewhere: mainly that closeness and physical touch that I’m unable to get from other groups of people or friends. I love the touchy-feeliness so many of these guys have with each other and that they bestow on me, too, when they can tell that it’s OK for me. They’re actually really good either at reading my body language or at asking me for permission for hugs/touch. And I’m feeling a lightness and ease in being touchy-feely with them, without double guessing myself like I usually do with other demographic groups — and this feels extremely liberating and healing to me.
I am hopeful that the specific combination of being accepted & liked as a nonbinary trans gay boy by a group of cis gay men and of having these experiences of physical touch & physical affection that are consensual (without always having to be explicitly negotiated in words) & mutually sought out will help turn that sieve of mine into a bucket — or, at least, a cup…
The Little Prince and the Fox 