My Brother My Sister: Story of a Transformation Hardcover (7 page)

culturally determined roles, attributes, emotional responsiveness, a

mixture of nature and nurture with one reinforcing the other. Never-

theless, one of the main distinctions and the most important one for

our purposes is the difference between
transvestism
and
transsexualism
.

A
transvestite,
or cross- dresser, is a man, most often heterosexual, who occasionally and for purposes of titillation, dresses in women’s

clothes, and has no intention of removing his penis. Robert Stoller

describes it as a way of indulging in the temptation while avoiding the danger of being “female,” the arousal produced by the act being confirmation of manhood. According to Stoller, the transvestite says to

himself, “ ‘Am I still a male, or did the women succeed in ruining me?’

And the perversion— with its exposed thighs, ladies’ underwear, and

coyly covered crotch— answers, ‘No, you are still intact. You are a

male. No matter how many feminine clothes you put on, you did not

lose that ultimate insignia of your maleness, your penis.’ And the

transvestite, or ‘CD,’ gets excited. What can be more reassuringly pe-

nile than a full and hearty erection?”

A transsexual (or “T”)
wants only to be the opposite sex, and wears that sex’s clothes not for a transvestite’s erotic charge but to feel that she is where he belongs, or he is where she belongs. Sexual orientation will vary and may not be known until after hormones: Jennifer Boylan

quotes her own therapist that one- third of male- to- female transsexuals

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become man- desiring heterosexuals, a third homosexual (i.e., lesbian), and another third asexual. Chevey has said that Ellen will be in the

first category, but I ask him how he knows.

“You can’t know definitively and you always wonder.” (Here, and

on other sensitive occasions, I notice my brother retreating from the

confessional “I” into the impersonal “you.”) And not having had any

sex with a man, you can’t really be sure other than feeling an attraction to them, but you can’t get rid of your attraction to women, either.” He describes attractions that are more romantic- erotic than pointedly

sexual— a movie star’s sex appeal is exciting but not necessarily in a

genital way. “You don’t want to spread your legs but all of you is at-

tracted to attractive people, on so many levels.”

J. Michael Bailey, a psychologist at Northwestern University whose

writings about the sexual fantasies of transsexuals provoked a fire-

storm of controversy (about which more later), made a career studying

the behavior, speech, and movement of various transgender types. In

his signature book,
The Man Who Would Be Queen
, citing the original findings of researcher Ray Blanchard, he describes the differences between homosexual and heterosexual male- to- females, finding the for-

mer to be extremely feminine gay men, whereas the heterosexuals

were men “erotically obsessed with the image of themselves as

women.” He and other researchers pointed out what now seems obvi-

ous: that heterosexual male- to- females, as distinct from homosexual

transsexuals, are often not very feminine. Or as Chevey says: “There

are two types of transsexuals— those who grow up beautiful, with

high voices, and pass easily, and other types, like me, who are just the opposite. There’s no way you can hide it.”

And what about recent articles on preschoolers, boys who want to

dress as girls and who may or may not ultimately become gay
or
trans-

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My Sister

sexual. Some of the kids go back and forth, makeup and nail polish

one day, rough- and- tumble guy togs the next.

For Chevey, “Dressing up for me wasn’t the same as for a transves-

tite or a drag queen. Maybe I’m splitting hairs, but it wasn’t a sexual turn- on so much as the only thing you could do that would allow you

to experience a little bit of your female side.”

“Did you ever feel you were glad to have a penis, that it was gratify-

ing or superior?”

“Not at all. I was just wishing I could change. And at that time there

was no hope. There were no ‘role models’ except through the back door:

I’d go to a movie like
Goodbye Charlie
with Debbie Reynolds and
Switch
with Ellen Barkin, or
Victor/Victoria
with Julie Andrews: they could take a taboo subject and by treating it humorously, made it okay. Other people would say what a funny movie and what are we going to do this afternoon, but I would see something like that and just be lit up inside. It was the backdoor approach. That’s probably a good term, because you feel ecstatic but you have to keep it to yourself. You’re sitting around and somebody will mention one of those movies and you have to be careful not to let your reactions show. In the first two cases a male character had died and come back, reincarnated as a woman, as if this is the only way for society, or Hollywood, to address this problem, this fantasy of ‘sex change,’ and pass the censors. For me it was a sort of lifeline! I just wanted to go back and see the movie a thousand times. That was before videocassettes or DVDs.

Once they came in, I could rent them. And watch them over and over.

You don’t realize the importance of some of these things for transsexuals.”

In any case, Chevey doesn’t conform to Stoller’s description of a transsexual boy formed by rearing and learning, who “begins to show his

extreme femininity by age two or three, though first signs may appear

as early as age one.” To my eyes he was all boy.

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At the same time, Chevey insisted, it never felt like a choice.

“Eleanor has said several times, ‘You’ve gotten what you’ve always

wanted.’ As if it was some achievement or title or prize. The truth is that I wish transsexuality had never happened to me. From the outside it

looks like a selfish act, from the inside, not at all. I had a ‘happy’ life before destroying it all. This has nothing to do with happiness. My life was wonderful just as it was. It’s still wonderful! It’s trite to say it, but I wouldn’t wish transsexuality on my worst enemy. Like everyone born

with a birth defect— which I believe transsexuality is— I wonder, ‘Why

did this have to happen to me?’ ”

“How did the decision come about?”

“The need is much stronger. Decision is the wrong word. It has

taken me many years to understand, trying to keep an open mind

about what seemed important at the time, and what has come to seem

so in retrospect.

“First, to do such a thing would have been totally self- destructive,

emotionally and physically. In the relative tolerance of today, we simply do not remember just how hostile the environment was in 1975. Even

twenty years
later
, they were still dragging gays behind pickup trucks.

It would have been impossible. Crazy. The impulse to change one’s sex

seems irrational, but to do something about it was even more so.

“Then there was Pete. I didn’t want a child, but had acquiesced,

and therefore I took full responsibility. He might or might not have

accepted his father becoming a female, but I couldn’t take that chance.

“The reaction of Mother had seemed critical at the time, but I’ve

come to think her importance was a lesser factor. After all, I could

have just disappeared, gone out to the West Coast with a new name

and made a life that wouldn’t have impinged on hers.

“I’d left my marriage, gone out to explore the possibilities, then the

survival instinct kicked in. I backed off. As much as I wanted it, I still

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wanted to live. The determination, the urge and its eventual fulfillment, is not a decision so much as an addiction. So I swore I could control it.

But with an addiction, there are things you can do and after a while it gets better. Not this urge. It grows and grows under the surface. You

fight the urge, knock it down, it comes back. Over thirty years it takes a huge toll. I began to feel it would kill me if I
didn’t
go with it. Sometimes I was just shaking, it was so stressful inside. What others call a

‘decision’ was a long, agonizing, soul- searching, gut- wrenching process, and the worst of it was knowing what it would do to everyone around

me. I didn’t think I could live with what I’d be doing to others.

“But it gets to the point that it’s suicide if you
don’t
do it. Whereas earlier, I felt it would be suicide to do it, now it was the reverse. Eleanor never saw the intensity. I hid it from her, so that she didn’t understand; she thought if you can live with it like you’ve done, why can’t

you go on? But she had no idea of what was going on inside.”

The idea that it’s a “choice,” at least where Chevey’s concerned,

seems increasingly, almost laughingly, difficult to believe when you

consider all the disastrous consequences. Here, after all, is what he’s facing: facial reconstructive surgery, the outcome of which no one can

foretell; constantly looking over her shoulder for psychopaths so

threatened by the idea they’d attack or even kill her; no way of know-

ing who will stand by her among family and friends; the fear of meet-

ing, whenever she goes out, snickers, murmurs, raised eyebrows, eyes

either averted or staring; the overt or subtle ostracism; outrageous expenditures of money for procedures (surgery, electrolysis, hormone

patch) with no health coverage. And here’s what he’s giving up: all the advantages of a good marriage, the closeness, the trips, the plans, the sex, the mother- in- law, possibly the stepchildren; the perks of being a man, the automatic authority, the respect of agents, clerks, waiters, his secure place in society.

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He expects to be treated like a freak. “My therapist told me about

a transsexual patient of his. She went into Starbucks not too long ago, and when she was paying for her coffee, she thanked the guy at the

register. ‘You’re
welcome,
sir
!’ he said with heavy emphasis.”

Who would choose this? The cardinal belief among homophobic

conservatives that individuals “choose” to be homosexual, with all its

disadvantages, is questionable enough, but it would be insane for any-

one with a relatively secure and traditional life and lifestyle to throw it all over for a life considered beyond the pale and whose outcome is

dubious at best. “Lifestyles,” and identities, in this era of rampant individualism, are not totally without “choice”: we may, and may often,

choose which “side” of ourselves to act upon, which to disavow.

There’s the minister who chose to suppress rather than express his gay

side, as his Christian vocation was more important than his (as he sees it) sex life. Cynthia Nixon angered some in the gay community when

she admitted to having been married to a man, then chose to live as a

lesbian. For some, it is easier to suppress, or at least marginalize, sex drives than for others. Nixon honestly confronted the heterosexual

side that most homosexuals rigorously deny. Even transsexuals deny

their former selves, change their birth certificates, but for them, precisely because of the fearful consequences, the word choice seems a

misnomer.

“Did you make mistakes,” I ask him, “catch yourself in public think-

ing I’m a woman and behave differently?

“I didn’t so much think I’m a woman as think I’ve got to act like a

man. Later there were times when I’d do something like the gesture I

just did— palms open— and I’d catch myself and think, that’s female.

A man tends to show the back of his hands; the female is much more

submissive. There are little things like that, or maybe you cross your

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My Sister

legs in the wrong way and suddenly you realize and correct yourself.

You have your antennae up all the time.”

“So you’re a student of female and male behavior.”

“Yes, all my life I looked at women and women’s fashion. I was

aware of the way they were dressing. I think back on certain events

now, like once coming home from school, or maybe it was cotillion,

when I was in an all- girl car pool. The other boys were jeering, and

envious. I played it to the hilt; it was cool that I was in the midst of all these cute girls, but at the same time I was thinking—”

“This is where I belong.”

Ethel had suggested we get in touch with gay activist groups or the

umbrella organization GLBT (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgen-

der) National Help Center, but transsexuals are not really regarded as

one of the fold. I mentioned it to my brother on the phone, after he’d

gone home.

“They think of us as freaks,” he said, “the same way straight peo-

ple do.”

How sad was this! I suppose there’s a certain logic: gay males in

thrall to the pleasures of the phallus would naturally be the last to