Yeah, I’ve gone and done it now. Hate mail should start pouring in momentarily. I can almost feel the tidal wave of angry, stupid, hateful men in dresses coming after me with pitch forks and torches.
I’m part of so few groups these days, and the number is becoming fewer all the time, because the whole “T” community is in a uproar. Well you know, if they want to set about klinging to their delusions about labels, terms, and who they REALLY ARE, fine. I doesn’t mean I have to agree with them, or share my bathroom with them
Get over it guys. If you’re wearing a ball gown, stomping around like a trucker, shoving people out of the way, and bellowing to your buddy across the mall, YOU ARE A MAN. Period. End of story. At best, you might be “Transgender” which is an insulting, pejorative term, so why you’d want to Kling onto the term is beyond me. Trying to convinve me, or anyone you’re “Transsexual” well I’m sorry, but that should give a beer swilling, basement hidding, joker in a frock a one way ticket to a happy place, where they give you all sorts of happy pills, and keep you safe and out of harms reach.
As in out of the reach of HARMING others!
So you don’t like how pejorative the term “Trangender” has become? Well, you can thank yourself for that. Trying to claim you’re a “Transsexual” because somehow, that makes things better? Yeah, right. Put down the beer, and step away from labels before someone comes along, pumps you full of estrogen and cuts off you precious, beloved power stick of doom! Just because some ignoramus at websters has chosen definitions for words they know nothing about, and codified them into reality by publishing them in a book, doesn’t make it right.
You there, beer swilling, basment dressing bloke in frock, yeah the joker with the deep voice, beer belly, and chain smokers cough, with the tree trunks sticking out of your face. Yeah, you! YOU ARE NOT A TRANSSEXUAL. Get over it, move on, bugger off. You’re a guy in a dress hiding out in the basement because your obsessed with “presenting” AS A women, not living.
Being a woman has nothing to do with clothes. Yeah, we wear them, you wear them, and sometimes you like to wear ours. Bully for you. Enjoy… It doesn’t make you a woman, or a transsexual one at that. Get over it and move on…
A big difference between trangender and transsexual;
Transgender folks can’t wait to get to their safe and happy place and put on a bra and panties,
Transsexual woman can’t wait to get to her safe and happy place and TAKE OFF her bra and panties…
So there you go…
You know, I’m not doing this for notoriety, for fun, or to take a stand on things. I’m also not here to get caught up in the river of angst known as labels and other people’s opinions. This blog, this site, isn’t about what other people think, feel, or have to say about things. I’m also going to say for the record I’ve worked hard, invested in myself, and am just a girl, a somewhat grown woman like any other living in the US.
NOT a Transsexual, Transgender, or any of the dozens, hundreds of different LABELS people try to impose based on ignorance or fear. Transsexuality is a made up name for a condition, as is Intersexed. I was was born intersexed, fought long and hard not to deal with it, and the medical conditions that came with it, and have grown past it. Transgender has become this somewhat popularized, and horribly contentious term made up by some, claimed by many, and almost always disputed. I don’t identify with any of them, I’m a girl, a woman, a person of the female gender. From my earliest memories I’ve been a girl. My father and the doctors had other thoughts, and society just kinda roped me off into a half of the room I don’t belong. Seriously, the wrong half of the room in Kindergarten. Wow, things just got ugly from there. That’s a topic, a story, for another day.
I’m a feminist, though considerably more moderate [read, much less militant and man hating] than I used to be, and firmly believe the Constitution of the US meant MAN in terms of MANKIND, not just MEN. I’m a card carrying NOW member, and supporter. I was, for many years, a radical, lesbian, feminist, and had someone break up with me because I was. I’ve mellowed with age, and really appreciate the humor of those days. What was so funny? Well the girl I was dating at the time, actually engaged to, broke up with me because she knew her Mom would take one look at me, and KNOW her daughter was a lesbian. “Right, funny? What’s funny about that?” I can almost here you asking.
I was living, working, and looked like a guy. Seriously. Really. Pretty much everyone knew I was a guy, or so I thought. I was hiding well, trying to do the whole “guy” thing, and figured everyone believed I was a guy. Well, not so much! My Ex, in breaking up with me said I was way too much a les, and her Mom would know. She wasn’t ready to be “outed” at that point in her life, and broke up with me in self defense.
I could kinda relate, I had a big secret in my life that I didn’t want anyone to know either.
I was a girl, had been my whole life, and been fighting to hide. She suggested I just “go ahead and get things fixed, you’ll be much happier when you do and folks will be less confused.”
Wow. At that point, I was stunned, hurt, and just not believing what had just happened. I should have taken her advise then! Breaking up is hard enough to do, but it’s not like I told her my horrible secret.
That was back in the early 80’s and the journey between there and here has been, humm, interesting? Transition was the furthest thing from my mind, and denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt, it was a way of life. I am, for the record, female, a woman, and proud of it. That’s it! No other labels, names, conditions I wrap about me like an identity.
A woman, my gender is female inside and out. It’s been a long road, and breaking up is hard enough, let alone like this.