Chafing Thighs

Natalie recently had the first in a series of gender reassignment surgeries. Back in the day we called it “the sex change,” but now I know better.  There isn’t just one sex change surgery and — BAM! –transition done.  I wish.

I’m sure multitudes of trans people wished so, too. But unfortunately, the transition is a long, slow series of surgeries and pills and shots and bureaucratic paperwork and roadblocks, and I can say with authority, transitioning isn’t easy. 

From this particular surgery, Natalie and I learned a hilarious and unimportant (or is it important?) detail. Balls aren’t just for hanging from the back of pick-up trucks and making sperm! Testicles actually keep one’s thighs from chafing. 

Without testicles Natalie is experiencing the problem of the rubbing, sweating, chafing thighs!   

Natalie’s complaints about her chafing thighs are muffled by her relief the surgery is covered by insurance. She’s worried the Supreme Court is going to take away newly gained trans protections and she’s hoping to do as much as she can toward her transition while she can.

She is worried because right now the Supreme Court is currently preparing to decimate a woman’s right to choose.  If women’s rights can be canceled overnight, LGBTQ+ rights are not far behind (and, when I think about it for longer than a minute, I see how LGBTQ+ rights are tightly entwined with women’s rights.)

The fundamentalists, far-right conservatives, and originalists are fetishists when it comes to the body.  They love to bind everyone in chastity belts because they consider bodily freedom dangerous.  I think they’re afraid of their own bodies, so they insist on controlling everyone else. I’m pretty sure they need everyone to fall in line with predetermined gender roles because they’re worried their world will collapse without restraints. 

And now,  because of a small minority of tightly wound fearful people, if you find yourself accidentally, or dangerously, or forcefully made pregnant, you will have to carry that zygote until it’s a baby, and then, baby oh baby, you’re on your own.  Essentially, once the sperm meets your egg, your autonomy is also screwed.

Because the GOP and their fetishists allies can no longer openly hate on gays and lesbians, they have realigned their laser focus on transgender people. They are so intent on stoking hate and on oppressing transgender people, I am afraid of what strangers will do to Natalie.  This fear turned into pre-operation worry about Natalie’s surgery.  I played it cool at work and going about my day, and lied to everyone about how I felt about the surgery, but the truth is I was terrified the medical professionals wouldn’t treat Natalie with dignity.  I’ve seen the videos of surgeons making fun of patients on the operating table. Two years ago I discovered my pulmonologist was a right-winger! You never know who to trust. You never know what someone really thinks of you. And god forbid someone on the medical team is a transphobe! Or worse. A T.E.R.F.

T.E.R.F.s are trans exclusionary radical feminists (you know, the folks whose team Dave Chappelle so proudly announced he’s a part of).  They don’t believe trans women are women. This makes me ask: What is a woman? But that’s a complicated contemplation for another time. Before Natalie came out, I knew T.E.R.F.s existed.  I was vaguely aware of a stink they made years ago when The Vagina Monologues decided to include trans women.  And, oh my gawd, my stepdaughter has more than schooled me on the bullshit Team T.E.R.F. J.K. Rowling writes on Twitter.  I didn’t pay much attention. T.E.R.F.s seemed ridiculous, and frankly inconsequential to me, until they weren’t.  Now I know the T.E.R.F.s are not inconsequential, at all.  They’re dangerous. And, wittingly or not, they are fast becoming tools for the fetishist fundies.

These “radical” feminists may be my sisters, but we do not share worldviews.  I prefer a more intersectional feminism.  I prefer a more tolerant, expansive, progressive worldview based on history and science and kindness. 

Your body belongs to you!

Plus, I believe firmly and without hesitation that each individual’s body belongs to them and only them.  My body belongs to me.  If your body doesn’t sync with your soul, and we have the medical know-how to fix the problem, then go for it!  Life is too short to be miserable.   Your body belongs to you!

It wasn’t until we were at the hospital waiting for the surgery to begin that I found out I used to work with the surgeon’s aunt-in-law!  The surgeon and I had a connection!  That made Natalie and me real in the surgeon’s eyes (or so I imagined)!  The St. Louis 6 (known as the six degrees of Kevin Bacon in the wider world) came to my emotional rescue once again!  (I won’t digress into a litany of times the St. Louis 6 has worked to my advantage, but it has, believe me.  If you’re a St. Louisan, you know what I’m talking about.)

The hospital staff were all kind and helpful and eventually, after hours at the hospital, I finally relaxed. 

While I was imploding from anxiety pre-surgery, Natalie was giddy with anticipation.  She was so giddy, she scripted a joke to tell post-surgery.  She repeated the joke multiple times pre-surgery to ensure she’d be able to tell it post-surgery while still groggy from anesthesia.  And she pulled it off!  Upon waking up, Natalie asked the attending nurse, “How did the colonoscopy go?”

Her humor is one of the many reasons I love her.  She’s a keeper, and I’m glad I have chosen to stay with her through her transition and beyond.  I’m learning quite a bit in the process.  I’m learning there are more loving people than mean-spirited people.  I’m learning about gender and my own relationship to it.  I’m learning about love and how to love.  And, I’m learning why people with balls don’t complain about chafing thighs like people without balls do.