Passing

It's been a bit of a shock to notice lately that I'm passing more than not. I never actually expected that this would happen, though of course I hoped for it. Not that my being trans is any big secret, it just makes social interactions more comfortable to be seen as fully woman. Even in a sampling of eight responses to phone bids for insulation, about two-thirds recognized me as female simply from my voice. And while scheduling my first mammogram, the questions indicated that the receptionist thought I was a genetic woman, until digging into the records turned up a duplicate ID number – at which point she grew very quiet for a few moments, then carried on as if nothing had happened. (It's worth noting here the very genuine sadness I felt that my past is following me around, even as I knew and expected it would.)

Of course, it's also possible that people are recognizing me as trans, and simply reacting at face value to my presentation. In other words, I'm getting clocked, but nobody cares.

Which could be even better than passing.