Last night as I was wrapping my gifts, I came upon one of those annoying transgender quandaries. Namely, I was left wondering how I should sign the tags on the gifts to my parents. I do, of course, go by the more feminine “Jaime,” but they still insist upon calling me “James.” As I have said probably about million times before, I don’t actually mind being called by my birth-name nearly as much as most trans-people do, but I still find it annoying as it tends to negate my identity*.
Normally, of course, I am unshy about signing my name however I please, regardless of their opinions. So I signed them as “From Jaime.” But then I realized: this was Christmas! The so-called ‘season of giving,’ all about the negation of personal self-interest for the benefit of others. So I relabeled them as “From James,” and placed them under the tree.
This morning, I found that all of my gifts from them had been labeled as “To Jaime.” In short, we had both put our own desires aside to make the other happy.
Somehow, I find this oddly heart-warming.
*Although, if someone called me “James” but still used female pronouns I would consider this perfectly acceptable.