It saddens me to see tweets exclaiming that young teenage girls are being bullied to be transsexual if they fall out of the accepted guidelines of our self-imposed rigid lines of gender. How one plays or likes has nothing to do with gender expression. Whether it is little Sally playing with trucks, or little Billy playing with dolls. Or whatever combination. In childhood there should be no restriction on a child’s play. They should be able to decide for themselves how they want to play. It is when the play is restricted that this becomes a problem.
In high school I got suspended for wearing makeup, I got out of school suspension for wearing a plastic bag as a skirt and I got refused my desire to take a cosmetology on the basis because I was male. Of course then I got kicked out of school for a week because I called the principal a sexist and misogynist. I ended up taking a class in Graphic Communications. I loathed very minute of it because of how I got into the class. I projected all my loathing and hatred on my teacher. He was a nice guy, and I was a jerk. I was such a jerk that for my last 3 months of class I had to clean the cage daily. The next year I was permitted back.
It was a fun time at this school. I met some real interesting people. Most important I met Beth Biasella. We talked about anything and everything. We went out to eat, a lot at My Friend and Big Egg. She introduced me to a lot of great music. She introduced me to Odd Girl Out, The Sundays. I was already into RIOT GRRRL and Radical Feminism. I had expressed to her that I loathed being male, and that I wanted to do what I could to come as close as I could to being female.
At this stage in my life. I knew myself very well. I was pretty well read in a varied of subjects. I wanted to expand my mind on everything. I had dealt with being transgendered since I was in the womb. I remembered early on the 8 weeks before the androgen invaded my body, leaving me deformed with a parasite between my legs. Men are incomplete women, therefore men are inferior to women. That was how I felt.
Beth got some estrogen patches that her mother had. I was hooked. I can say now that estrogen is a much better high then heroin, and the feeling of estrogen tarring through the body is better than sex.
When it comes to transsexuality this backwards culture is cruel. People should be able to do what they want to their bodies. The standards of care don’t help. Neither does religion, schools, family. The person already has to deal with themselves. Being transgendered is solitary like Majic, and both are gifts.
I have struggled with it for a long time. No matter what I do whether it be vaginoplasty , estrogen & progesterone I realize and know I will never be a woman. In 2004 I did a full, but still left with the parasite between my legs. I have decided to go back on hormones and work towards to complete the transition that I should of done in the 80’s. I had come out to a psychiatrist in 1988 when I was 13 going on 14. He didn’t even want to discuss it. All he said was that I didn’t look like one. How does one look “like one”? Be all the fucking stereotypes that society drops on us. It pissed me off. I haven’t seen a male doctor since that day. Well at least to the best of abilities. His comment did piss me off. It pushed me to eat a lot. That was how I dealt with emotions, food,tv and music.
When I look out into the world at the moment, I am excited at the Johnny Come Lately acceptance of transsexuality. I would be in joy being on social media with transformation videos. The bullying of others I loathe. As I have said the journey of being transgender is a solitary one, one I welcome with open arms. To be free in a world that trampled on the individuals freedom continuously, does not mean projecting your loneliness on others. There needs to be a comfort in being who you are alone whether others accept you or not is their baggage. These bland lines on gender is at worst destructive and misogynist. If your going through something you can’t expect others to assimilate to you as you have no need or desire to assimilate to what others want you to be.