Not made of wax

by Paula Sophia
Special Issues Columnist

Sometimes I watch horror films, mostly to analyze them. Approaching them analytically keeps me from being drawn in too much. I like to spot the contrivances that make it obvious the scene is not real. Every once in a while, though, I get the creeps. An image or a situation sticks in my mind, and I mull it over for days, sometimes lying awake at night trying to erase it from my mind.

That’s what happened when I saw House of Wax, the 2005 version. Yes, I know, pretty cheesy, right? But the idea of entombing people in a wax veneer terrifies me. What really got me, though, was the poor guy who was still alive inside the wax, sitting at a piano, immobile and flush with pain. I watched, terrified, hoping the guy would summon the strength to break out of his shell and walk out of there, but of course, he couldn’t. What a nightmare!

I pondered why this got me so worked up, reflecting on my fears, praying I wouldn’t have nightmares about it. Finally, I realized why it haunted me so much – the whole idea of being encased inside a facade of flesh reminded me of gender dysphoria, the immobility like the fear of coming out, the pain like the struggle to reconcile my identity with my outward appearance.

I finally did break through the shell, like a hatchling freshly born into the world, clumsy at first, but eventually a fully realized version of myself. As with a young hatchling, I’ve had to negotiate my way through life, learning how to walk, learning how to run, and trying to avoid the predatory manifestations of prejudice and hostility. Thankfully, I’ve been resilient enough to make my way, tenuous as it has been at times.

The trans community is hatching from the shells that have contained us, stepping into the world, fully visible rather than hiding away. In some cases we’re forced to be open, choosing to transition in the jobs we have, enduring the onslaught of disapproving coworkers and obtuse administrators rather than facing the job market, often a gauntlet of discrimination and intolerance.

Some of us are open because we don’t want to leave one set of roles and expectations only to be confined within another set of roles and expectations. After all, isn’t this supposed to be a movement toward freedom: free to be you, free to be me?

Whether we like it or not, trans people are being noticed more and more, sometimes celebrated, sometimes derided, but also more scrutinized than ever before. It is hard to live a life of stealth, nowadays, if for no other reason than the proliferation of databases that increasingly highlight discrepancies in identity. Sometimes these bits of data prompt questions, and these questions create moments where we must tell the truth or risk termination for lying.

It’s kind of like that poor guy stuck behind the piano in that House of Wax movie. It’s time to move, time to get going, time to break out of our shells and send a message. We are people, too. We want to feel safe in public. We want a place to feel at home. We want employment and opportunity, a chance to pursue happiness like everyone else, to live the dream and forget the nightmare. 

The Gayly - 4/9/2016 @ 2:45 p.m. CDT