Um, Excuse me, is that your wallet?


I have cute shiny pink coach wallet that I picked up on Labor Day (see above).  I love my new wallet, I love it so much that I take it everywhere, and then frequently leave it in the car.

That’s right, I frequently leave it in my car, taking out the card(s) or cash I’ll need.

Perhaps you think less of me.  Or, perhaps you find yourself in similar situations.  You’re not passable, perhaps you even aren’t even trying to pass on a given day, and the last think you want to deal with are the stares, the stress, and the intolerance of those around you.

Typically I do this at a bowling alley, a bar, or somewhere else where I am fearful of intolerance.  There are of course days where I don’t care, where I can put up with looks, or where I understand that my perception isn’t always the same as reality.  It’s that last part I think is the most important.

I had teenagers, so the every day drama of mistakenly believing the world revolves around you and is constantly worried about what you’re doing and what you’re wearing isn’t new to me.  I understand in the vast majority of cases, people take one look at me, pigeon-hole me into the “freak” or “one of those” categories, and move on with their own lives.  There are also those more progressive minded thinkers who see me and are grateful I am on the front lines of tearing down gender divides, knocking down gender barriers, and making the public more aware of the gender diversity in our culture, and the world at large.

Which group do I live for?  Which group should I live for?

The answer, as you no doubt already know, is neither.  I shouldn’t live for either group because both groups are simply pigeon-holing me into a stereotype that I’m not.  I should live for me, I should grab my wallet, and take it into the blowing alley.  I should be always be myself, unless my safety is at stake.

Of course, the reality is, I will probably leave my wallet in the car this Tuesday when I bowl.

Instead of letting this bring me down, I’ll instead view it as a goal, a small attainable goal, that will one day lead to being able to not be worried about how the world sees me.  A wallet with more than cash and cards, a wallet with an identification that I choose to make, not an identification the world has chosen for me.

“Excuse me, is that your wallet?”

“Yes, yes that is.”


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About Trans-Atheist

Trans* and an Atheist. Frequently in need of a hug, never in need of a prayer.

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