When people meet me they immediately sense that. I know. I can see it in their eyes. They look at a body of a man but sense something different. They pause with a breathe. They look, again. I hear them thinking. In my mind, the Sesame Street song: “One of these things is not like the other” begins to play. Usually in their distress they shrug their shoulders and walk away.
I have learned over the years to accept peoples notion of what they need me to be. Man / Woman / He / She / Them / Dad / Mom... Ultimately, I'm a person. I enjoy my body the way it is. I wear clothes that are comfortable to me. I wander into the world as myself. I don't carry the weight of peoples perception of me. I'm me.
I still enjoy the company of women. The women I surround myself with are strong women. Women who know how to get things done. They have a sense about themselves. Tall. Bold. Beautiful. They are take no prisoner kind of gals. They carry the weight of many nations on their backs. They love. They laugh. They encourage.
What community do I find myself in? Wherever I am, I am comfortable. In the community of women, I find comfort. In the community of men, I find comfort. In the community of trans individuals, I find comfort.