Oh, to be trans on International Women's Day.

Yeah, I'm wearing red on International Women's Day like a whole lot of other women, and taking considerable pleasure in all the shouts out to trans women that I see out there on the internets. But that's only a small part of the story of being a trans woman.

I direct you to this article by homegirl Sophia Lee. She largely speaks for me, with a few important exceptions:

1. I have only a vague idea of how well I pass. I see people looking at me funny pretty often, but they may not really be in some cases. My working assumption for all these years was that everyone knew, but hardly anyone cared. Seattle FTW, baybee, because it allows me to even make that assumption.
2. If I were to find out for sure that I do pass well, a part of me would be very happy. And that's... not great. Sure, I can get by without that kind of dubious validation, but something in me still craves it. That craving can be the root of much evil: abandoning the fellow trans women who need me, abandoning my past and part of myself. I know better than to think passing equals safety: witness the staggering rate of sexual assault against women.
3. I'm so very glad I'm not interested in sex or romance with men. Because, well, they tend to suck more than women do. Significantly. Violently. Men who don't suck, and that's most of the men I know, have a lot of low-cost things they can do to help a trans sister out. Put the kibosh on the tranny jokes. Call out the transphobia with a simple, "Dude, that's transphobic."