Travel as a Trans Woman Looks Like Trouble

Identity issues make me feel like staying home

It’s weird, I have transitioned to affirm my true identity. After many years of prevarication, I have finally decided to be me, Sarah, a trans woman. I wake each day, knowing exactly who I am.

But even with this certainty, when it comes to getting paperwork to prove my identity and support my decision, especially for travel, I know everything will be an issue.

I’d like take a trip next year. Go and visit my sister in Italy, visit Scandinavia, and maybe catch up with some lovely writers in the UK who have become friends.

I want to go as me, and the anticipation is sweet, but travel as Sarah has trouble written all over it in big, ugly bureaucratic letters.

Matters large and small seem to be compounding. Every issue is attached to several others, like a chaotic family tree. There’s a long list of things I’d need to complete before Sarah ever got near an airplane.

At the top of the list is legally changing my name.

I understand, a new birth certificate and matching passport might satisfy the needs of immigration, but along with those would need to come changed bank accounts (need money), a new driver’s licence (need to drive), new, new, new. I will have to change a hundred accounts and then there’s the issue with my identity in that other country where I used to live. I have financial interests there. Those need stay in my old name as there’s no way of going there and changing it. Not that I would set foot in the US at the moment, and getting turned around after a fourteen hour flight is not something I’m prepared to try.

There are no half measures with this stuff, it’s a monstrous administrative shitfest and one I can’t do piecemeal. So I’ve put it in the ‘for another day’ pile.

And at the bottom of the list… my hair

Or rather the lack of it. I know this sounds trivial, but I’ve never worn a wig for twenty four hours straight. The thought of me falling asleep with my wig sliding off gives me the absolute horrors. Not to mention permanently scaring the minds of any small children who might be seated nearby. I guess I could wear a bandana. My results with electrolysis are thus far underwhelming, I’d have to get up and shave every 12 hours.

Then there’s the stopovers

Many flights from Australia to Europe stop in Dubai or Qatar. What happens when a trans woman lands in the Middle East? Even if my birth certificate matched my passport I could still be singled out, harassed, strip searched, or even not let back on the plane? Safer to fly through Thailand, I suppose. Maybe I could get some work done while I’m there?

I Hate The Easy Solution

These days, I know safety is an important consideration, and I could simply dust off some white male privilege, find something to wear that isn’t too frilly and with my original passport still valid, go as my old self.

But how I hate the thought of putting Sarah, like a ventriloquist’s doll inside a suitcase. The thought sits like an ill fitting wig and it’s pissing me off. I guess it’s only for the plane ride, as soon as I land in EU I can assume myself, though with painted nails and earrings, I might still be harassed.

So, just stay at home

Once upon a time, I would book a flight without a moment’s hesitation. But these days, airports, security and the entire process of travel make me feel anxious.

While I’m braver about my identity and the difficulties of presenting, I’m more reluctant to submit myself to the scrutiny of the bigoted, unfeeling systems that control travel.

It’s not as though I’m pretending be masculine any more, I present female, with or without a wig. I wear makeup, carry a handbag and wear women’s clothing. If you look closely you can see boobs underneath my sweater.

But I have gotten used to the safety this city affords. Were I to travel out of my urban bubble, even in this country, these matters might remain a consideration.

So I haven’t arrived at a solution that makes total sense, maybe I should suck it up, take the line of least resistance and go, but it doesn’t sit well with me.

The thing is, I love this woman I’ve become. Every day spent as Sarah enriches my life, the other days well, they just pass.