![]() ![]() They seem dumbfounded that a chipper little five foot five girl could swing a sledgehammer. Now, after transitioning, I get surprised looks whenever I tell people that I am a blacksmith. When I read about blacksmithing as a kid, it was by male authors writing for a male audience. Video games and books all featured bearded muscly men in forges. I didn’t pick up a hammer again for four years.Īll of the depictions of blacksmiths around me were male. In order to prove to others that I was “legitimately female,” I had to change much of who I was and what I did. I may be trans, but people didn’t believe me because of my craft. You’re a blacksmith!” My adherence to my passion as a gendered activity ended up negating the reality of my inner feelings. People would look surprised and say, “But…you can’t be a girl. Unfortunately, my passion for the craft became less of a blessing when I came out as transgender. That was fine by me whatever it took to not have people doubt my gender. Something about my identity as a blacksmith seemed to set me firmly amongst the ranks of the masculine. I had been girly for years, and here was a ready-made way for me to do something badass while being able to use it to hide myself in a gendered cloak.Īnd it worked! Even though I tended to squeak when happy, and skip from class to class, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that I was manly. I was assigned male at birth, but all through my childhood I had learned that if I acted like myself, then I would get called a faggot and kicked around the playground. I loved it, I really did, but behind my enthusiasm was another motive. ![]() I studied and practiced for years, working under a local reenactor, and selling forged wares to pay for the tools. It clicked seamlessly into the clockwork of my soul. I felt a connection to the medium that was almost primal. ![]() I had just seen a nearby blacksmith at work, and the roaring fire and the clanging of the hammer on steel had fascinated me. One balmy summer evening when I was 14, my parents came home to find me in front of a fire, bent over a hot piece of metal, beating it with hammer.
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