
A few months in, Veronica was ready to start going about her daily life presenting as her authentic self. Naturally, we were both nervous about it. In 2018, the anti-trans rhetoric from politicians and TERFs was gathering momentum in the U.K. and elsewhere. We didn’t know what reactions she would get and there was no way of shielding her from any hate speech or assault.
This led to a subconscious desire to present as femme as possible, rather than staying within her usual aesthetic, which is sort of punk meets grunge. It’s a common strategy among marginalised people when we’re in a situation that might be dangerous: give strangers as little ammunition as possible. Sometimes that’s by making ourselves small or unobtrusive. Sometimes it’s by conforming to some norm that we think will be more acceptable. It’s often effective for white or white-passing people who don’t have visible disabilities or other differences, but far less so for black, brown and indigenous people as well as people whose difference stands out.
I’ve done it myself when traveling in places where visible queerness or visible disability are seen as problems, removing any jewellery, makeup or badges that might out me and wearing clothes that scream “ordinary”, but the wheelchair isn’t something I can hide.
In Veronica’s case, she started looking at the obvious: makeup, hair, shoes and clothes. The first two were easy: Veronica used to perform realness drag and has excellent makeup skills; and she’s always had a full head of thick and strong hair that she could easily grow out, style, colour and so on. Shoes were harder to deal with: it’s rare for women’s shoe shops to stock anything above a U.K. size 8 and she’s a size 9. On top of that, we didn’t have a huge budget to burn and shoes are expensive, as are clothes. Her wardrobe at the time screamed “butch” or “boy” and neither felt safe.
Two things came to the rescue: clothing exchange apps and charity shops. It wasn’t always easy finding things in her size and it took a while, but with smart swaps of her butch wardrobe for a range of femme clothes, she was able to construct a dozen outfits (not all of which she loved and some of which she swapped again after trying them on). That made her feel safer and more grounded when she was out in the world.
The main app she used at the time was called Nuw, but there are a number of other apps as well as queer clothing swaps that can greatly benefit trans people when they’re trying to go across to the other end of the gender expression spectrum. Wexford Pride now tries to organise a clothing swap at least twice a year to support community members in finding themselves within the complex world of self-expression. That’s in large part motivated by Veronica’s experiences.
Would all this be enough to help her “pass” and avoid hate speech or attacks? Would it help her avoid misgendering and other “micro”aggressions? That remained to be seen. For my part, as her spouse, I was just hoping it would leave her feeling comfortable as she moved through the world.
Want to support the blog, which is going to be my primary source of income moving forward? I have a Patreon account here, a Liberapay account here, and a PayPal account here.