"As I hear all the tawdry details of Jenner's story, I am also re-reading 'How Sex Changed' by Joanne Meyerowitz. [...] In it, Meyerowitz discusses the reactions to Christine Jorgensen's coming out in the 1950s, and how both her tale and many others who came out shortly thereafter, were steeped in the same sort of salaciousness as the promotions for Jenner's autobiography.
"Upon reflection, I realize, too, that every transgender person - and not just the Jorgensens and Jenners - face this same sort of thing. When you are trans, the standards of privacy are thrown out the window. We are expected to share our most intimate details to anyone we come across.
"Without exception, any time I was interviewed in any depth, I found myself asked about my name prior to my transition, or for photos of myself from my youth, or for details of any surgeries I may have undertaken. It really didn't matter if any of that would be relevant to the story: my disclosure was simply expected.
"The same standard is not expected of non-transgender people. Maiden names and other such things are considered private enough to be used as security features with banks and other institutions. Non-transgender strangers don't expect details of another's hysterectomies or vasectomies unless they happen to be medical professionals. So many things are naturally considered one's own private business.
"The minute one divulges one is transgender, however, all bets are off. What's more, to make an issue about such questions is to risk being panned as deceptive."
-- Gwendolyn Ann Smith, 2017-04-27
(no subject)
The name a person grows up with affects them. My given name was extremely uncommon when I was growing up; at that time, no one had ever heard it, and having everyone think my name was weird added to my feelings of alienation.
When I was in my teens, a little boy on a TV show had my name, and people started naming their kids that, so nowadays, people who've heard my name but not met me think I'm a man. And since the boy on the TV show was Black, the name is used more often by Black parents than by White ones, so I'm often thought to be both male AND Black.
There's nothing wrong with being either male or Black, but since I am neither, it can be a problem. I got a job interview once where they'd assumed anyone with my name was male, and they told me the position was for a man. Given all of that, if I ever changed my name, I can see why someone would want to know what name I'd grown up with, because they affect who we are in many ways.