I give up. I have finally accepted reality. I will be ma’amed on the phone at least 60 percent of the time until I die. And if I keep getting angry and frustrated about it, that time will come sooner than I expect. So call me ma’am. It’s okay with me.
I have been on testosterone for over 12 years, and my voice is as low as it’s going to get. It’s not as low as I originally hoped it would be (I wanted Barry White, not Betty White). But it’s not high, either. It’s not the pitch that’s the problem — it’s the expressiveness.
I-don’t-talk-like-this. I ta-aalk like thiii-iss.
I enunciate my words. I sound my “esses” and my “tees.” I draw out words and move my voice all over the place. It’s habit. It’s a lifetime of talking like I really mean it, like I take every word seriously, like every sound is fraught with emotion and deep, dark hidden meaning. And it reflects a “feminine” speech pattern.
I don’t call and say, “I’d-like-to-make-a-reservation.” I call and say, “I’d like to make a reservaaaationnn.” And the person who answers the phone says, “For how many, ma’am?”
When I first started transition, I was livid every time it happened. And the poor person on the other end of the line, who was just trying to follow the “sir-or-ma’am” script that’s mandatory for everyone in the service industry, would be the target of my wrath.
During one call, the man I was talking to asked me my name. I said, “Matt.”
He said, “I’ve never heard of a woman named Matt before.”
Neither have I, you idiot — doesn’t that tell you something? I wanted to say it, but I didn’t. Instead, I said, “It’s Matt, short for Matthew — M-A-T-T-H-E-W!”
Then I hung up.
In another instance, I called an agency, identified myself at Matt Kailey, and asked who I needed to speak to about a particular issue. The woman said, “I don’t know, ma’am. I’ll have to check for you, ma’am.”
I said, “My name is Matt.”
She said, “Hold on a second, ma’am. I’m checking for you.”
I said, “My name is Matt! Short for Matthew!”
She said, “The person you need to speak to isn’t in, ma’am.”
I said, “WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP CALLING ME MA’AM! MY NAME IS MATTHEW KAILEY! MATTHEW!”
She said, “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Then I hung up.
When I call to ask about one of my bills — a bill for Matthew Kailey — the person who answers sometimes says, “And is this Mrs. Kailey?”
Umm, no — that’s my mom. And if she was still alive, I’d have her come over there and beat you up.
Even the guy at the Subway drive-thru called me ma’am over the speaker, then fell all over himself apologizing when I pulled up to the window.
Almost 13 years later, it still happens. It happened last week. And that’s when I gave up. That’s when I didn’t get mad. That’s when I finally decided that I was going to pick my battles and this wasn’t going to be one of them.
I know who I am. That’s all that matters. So go ahead — call me ma’am. Everyone else does.
Wow well this post struck home for me. I, of course have the opposite problem….I speak way too monotone…have been trying to learn how to talk more feminine…better enunciation, different words, most of all INFLECTION! Argh! It drives me nuts, my inflection (or lack thereof) just sucks….I have never been ma’amed on the phone but I constantly get sirred and it is very frustrating. Yesterday I finally corrected somebody when they said “Mr. Truax”….I said “Actually it’s Miss Truax”. They apologized and used Miss from then on.
I guess I’m successful at least on the phone. I’m always careful to pitch my voice up and I do not get “sirred” on the phone anymore.
It’s also been a long time since I’ve been “sirred” in person. But I just got back from a cruise where a dining room waiter and I had the following exchange:
At one point, he pointed at me and said “He”
I pointed to myself and said “She”
He said “No”
I said “Yes”
He said “Whatever”
I said “No, not ‘whatever’. This is my life!”
He walked away, a bit perplexed.
It was uncomfortable for a moment….but I felt empowered in that moment and for the first time I wasn’t left with a sinking feeling. It was good for me to say something.
Voice has always been my nemesis, especially on the phone. I dread those cold business calls. And leaving messages on a machine? Ahhhhhhhh! Hate it!
Even though I’ve raised my voice considerably I still don’t have those natural varied inflections down yet. When I get too relaxed I lose concentration on my voice and ya it’s the most obvious tell that I am trans.
Sometimes you can see the re-sexing happen in mid conversation.
hey Matt, I went listening to that youtube vid of your reading. Your voice is definitely male register. It’s fascinating that you get sirred. There is a certain overlap of voices, I recently listened to a female collegue in her 60s and a male colleague in his 20s and I got the voices mixed up because I wasn’t watching.
But you are right, it’s the inflection- to me you actually sound *very* gay, not female *lol*.
I had a gay cismale coworker, and it was unbelievable to listen to him answer the phone. He’s somewhat butch in daily life, but he has perfected the telephone sing-song voice “How can I help you?” He was the only man in his bureau and he had adapted completely to the female inflection.
Yeah, I hear you, but I’m okay with being taken as female on the phone, because if they saw me in real life, they’d just think I was an effeminate gay man. Plus, I accidently misgender people all the time on the phone too. Just correct them right away; they usually apologize.
It looks like this whole voice thing is really problematic. I swear, I cannot speak in a monotone for more than a few words. It takes all the energy and concentration that I have to attempt it. It’s a good thing the gay community has more variation in male voices. I’m tired enough as it is.
Daya, that story is incredible–that a waiter would say “No” when you identify yourself and then say “Whatever.” What complete disregard for a person. I’m so glad you spoke up.
I’m really glad to hear all these stories–like when I first learned about trans stuff, it’s good to know I’m not the only one.
Thanks, Matt…
It’s possible the waiter and I had a language barrier, but I don’t think so. What I should have said was “What are you going to believe, me or your LYING EYES?!?” At least I would have lightened the mood for my family at the table with me.
Normally, when misgendered on the phone or in person, I would always keep my mouth shut…letting the moment pass…and then hang onto the agitation. Being on the trip was liberating…and I finally just said something in the moment. This really allowed me to take the power back and let it go.
Part of my problem is that I am always goofing around. I’m always trying to make people laugh…and I often get really blue with my humor. I think people may perceive this as “not female”…but that’s their misconception. Look at dirty-mouthed and fabulous Sarah Silverman.
I just don’t really care anymore. I’m finally getting to a point where I really am accepting who I am and not just paying that concept lip service.
Hi, I understand. I’m a trans man myself and know how frustrating misgendering is. If you get “ma’amed,” try saying to the person on the phone, “I’m a man.”
If they ask if it is “Mrs. Kailey,” just say, “No you are talking to Mr. Kailey himself.”
Most people will immediately believe you, especially if the screen in front of them says that your name is “Matthew.”
Bonus: You might also get an apology.
Honey, if you’re voice suggests “woman,” then I have nothing to worry about. I’m M2F, and my voice is a big concern, as usual. I can’t imagine how I’ll ever sound female. But I listened to your voice on youtube, without watching the video, and it said “man” to me. Liked your piece about changing a tire, BTW.
Cheers!
Dana
Here’s an example for the gay male diction/voice. To it sounds male because I know bunches of guys who speak like that, but I can get how some peopel might hear female from that.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SklygPDK4fQ
I’m a cis-gender woman, but I’m a tenor (oh the joys, although my choir director loved me), and if I’m tired or just not thinking about it, I get “sir”ed. It actually took a lot of very conscious training in high school and college for me to learn how to speak “feminine” on a day-to-day basis. Although, being a cis-gendered girl, what people thought face-to-face was not that I was secretly male but that I was some sort of sociopath waiting to blow up the school.
I think voices are just ambiguous sometimes.
My friend (also a non-trans woman) is a police detective and has a super-low voice, so even though her name is very “feminine,” she also gets sirred all the time on the phone. I guess people figure “cop plus low voice equals man,” regardless of her name.
It doesn’t bother her, though. Like you said, voices can be ambiguous. Because I work in LGBT space, my old supervisor used to tell people not to use sir or ma’am on the phone when talking to callers, and I really respected him for that policy, because I just don’t think it’s necessary.
I saw a guy on TV a couple of weeks ago, and was really fascinated by his voice. He was cisgendered as far as I know; If he was gay or not I don’t know. But he sounded like a girl. It wasn’t that he had a high-pitched voice – you can sound male even if you have a high-pitced voice. No, it was something else. I thought it was cool somehow.
I was misgendered once when I was about to cross a street and the cars stopped. A man who also wanted to cross te street, and stood right behind me, said it was so typical that the cars would stop for a girl. So I turned around and asked him “who’s a girl?” He got very embarrassed and said something about my hair. Which wasn’t long, but the typical short female haircut
Matt:
You have a Subway with a Drive-Thru??? How cool is that?
We have a 24 hour Subway here. It’s down in the industrial end where the factory workers are.
I’ve never seen a Subway with a drive-thru.
Well, Lincoln, this is Denver. We’re very upscale here!
I had a problem with my bank recently and so I was on the phone with them a bunch and EVERY SINGLE TIME, they called me “ma’am”. Granted, I had just barely started T but my voice has never really been high-pitched. I guess I should just try speaking more monotone.
Thanks for posting this, Matt.
Nick Lemon
Monotone, Nick. That is definitely the way to go. I have never mastered it, but I think it’s the secret.
I am planning on transitioning to live as a female and I personally wish most guys voices were not so monotonous and I like deep voices in men.
My personal feeling is if you want a really good voice to concentrate on eliminating stress and speaking on the breath. Generally, those factors tend to lower vocal pitch. It also may help to work who you are into your voice. Beyond that, there is not a lot you can do without sounding less than optimal.
I read a paper on ftms and the voice hybridization that sometimes goes on and how he worked to try to ensure that after transition he had a good singing voice. Basically, hybridization is when part of your vocal structure sounds like you are one voice type and another part proclaims you something else. I think the jist was that if testosterone exposure was too rapid, the thyroid cartilage tended to end up in a mezzo type configuration even though the vocal cord length was baritone. Of course, a mezzo has higher overtones than a baritone and that can throw people off as far as voice type is concerned. None of this helps you but if you could find the research it might help others transitioning to live as males.
Personally voice has never been a big issue for me but I do tend to stand out trying to live in the gender of birth. I guess my voice is technically a little androgynous but having a really artificial sounding voice would be worse. Still, sometimes it irks me although many transwomen envy my voice. But it really helps when you naturally speak in the female range.
Good luck.
I felt I would post this link as it might be useful to someone here. It is a study on preserving ftm voices for the purpose of singing. My guess is it also might help with the hybrid type quality many ftms experience.
http://www.radical-musicology.org.uk/2008/Constansis.htm
Thanks for the link. I hope guys check it out – at least guys who sing. When I was first transitioning, I talked to so many guys who were worried about losing their singing voice that I became hopeful. I have never been able to sing, and I thought, “If they’re losing their singing voice, then maybe I will get a singing voice.”
But I didn’t. I’m still a bad singer – just an octave lower.