#a trans experience

[vodenanimfa]

A little girl went missing. She was talking to her friend in the kitchen, her friend went to the basement to get something and when she came back up the girl was gone. Vanished into thin air

I was a new guy in town, and a private investigator. The neighborhood in which the little girl went missing was falling apart. The parents were in such deep despair and panic. They didn't even ask me to start an investigation, they demanded it the moment they saw me. They introduced me to the neighbors' girl who had last seen the missing kid. They were both same age, around 5-6 years old. She showed me the place where the whole thing happened. She showed me the basement, all while the missing girl's mother was sobbing behind me the entire time.

The mother said the girl's name but it evaporated the moment she said it. "These are her clothes, these are her toys, I didn't imagine her! She's gone into thin air". She showed me red dresses and dolls, the clothing was so tiny. "I worked so hard to raise her properly, she wouldn't have run away!". And a kid her age had no reason to run away. Still, the way the mother was panicking felt too real, she was a sobbing mess every time I talked to her. With each interview I got to learn more about the trailer park she lived in, and the neighbors' houses. And the roads, and then the railroad.

Time was noticeably passing, and with every passing day the search seemed more and more pointless from my point of view.

I went to nearest train station to ask anyone I can if they've seen the six year old girl in a red dress. Everyone looked at me like an idiot. I showed them family photos of the now grieving family, nothing. At one point I was thinking of taking whatever train comes next and just leave the town. It's getting weird. The girl vanished into thin air, I have no answer for the family and the community. And I feel nothing for this child, which is so strange. Then, as though he was reading my mind, an old grey man started watching me. To avoid eye contact I was looking at the ground, I found some marbles. Every time I bend down to pick one up I glance to check if the old man is looking at me, and not only was he looking at me, he was obviously following me. A weird sense of unease started to creep in even though the man posed no threat to me. I was taller than him, younger and stronger. But the look on his face made me feel almost guilty. I turn around, I don't say anything, it was enough to face him. "Still nothing? Thought as much." I didn't see his mouth, he had a long beard and a visor. Before I got to say anything he added "a little girl goes missing on the same day a stranger arrives." Oh.... "And he's the one investigating her disappearance...right". I didn't reply, I was in shock at the thought of even thinking I would be suspected of doing something to a little kid. I was horrified, I turned around and left, made sure the old man couldn't follow me, but what was said was said.

I searched the dump that was a few blocks away from the trailer park. I searched the neighbors' home at least three times. Time kept passing, people started moving on with their lives. Yes the girl is still missing but everyone did what they could. The community clearly missed her.

They knew this little girl. They knew what she liked, they know how she dressed, but they couldn't imagine she was simply gone. At times, when presented with any "leads" or "evidence" I started wondering if this town is pulling a prank on me. The parents were the most hysterical. They didn't accept anything I had to say. They expected an explanation. If the child was kidnapped, who kidnapped her? If the child was murdered, who murdered her? Anything else is me wasting the precious time none of us had left.

On a particularly hot, dry day I visited the trailer of the parents. The mother was there cooking in her tiny kitchen. The interior of the trailer was steaming, I was drenched in sweat immediately. I asked her to sit down and talk to me. She probably thought I had some new information...

-"I'm not from here" I started

-"I know"

At this point the disillusionment was the only thing I had. I was not going to do what was expected of me"

-"I mean, I'm not from... I'm not--""

-"I know, I know what you're trying to say, and I understand, it's okay."

She understood I wasn't from her world, that I will never truly understand her grief, and that one day I will be gone forever as well. I felt a bit relieved. However, I felt like an immense failure for not telling her what she wanted to hear. She was so obsessed with getting her child back the same way she saw her the last time she did. In her little red dress, with her friend, playing. It will never happen again.

I managed to have a little neighborhood gathering one evening. I told them what they couldn't bear to hear. The girl is gone, she won't be coming back. No one took her, no one killed her, she was simply gone. Many people were very upset at my words, I wasn't trying to sugarcoat it.

"Can't you make her come back in any way?" An old alcoholic from one of the trailers asked me.

"No." I said it almost annoyed, but I really tried being understanding.

"Is there a way we can summon her...i-in some way...she can be with us again!" Said a woman, clearly choking back tears.

"No." It felt brutal to shut them down.

"Is there a way we can make ourselves believe that she is here with us?"

"I mean, I'm not barring you from trying" it felt bad, they were starting to lose touch with reality. But I didn't say anything. It was obvious my presence was causing them lots of distress. After all this time, no one told me to leave but it was obvious.

The next morning, I was ready to leave. Boarded a train, felt very dejected and disillusioned. I was probably what they were looking for, but not in the same form they remembered it. But I couldn't tell them that. And I couldn't re-insert myself into that community. They wanted a little girl, I was only a man.

[kerosene-saint]

realizing that you're not jealous of women not because you're a bisexual or lesbian but because you're trans is an experience.

[scramratz]

[armadillorollup]

in honour of wolvie returning to the big screen here's a fond childhood memory

[queerism1969]

[a-thread-of-green]

I've spent the last two weeks speedrunning coming out as a trans woman to my coworkers, extended family, and the assorted friends I'd collected through Facebook and I've been shocked and overwhelmed by how enthusiastically supportive cis women have been in particular. After doomscrolling through TERF shit for the past year, I'd become convinced that cis women tended towards distrust of trans women, with a significant percentage actively vitriolic. But, time and time again, I've received effusive praise from the cis women I come out to. Not just progressive women either: Christian Facebook-moms from Texas have been enormously supportive. I've gotten some support from cis men too, but nothing nearly as passionate, and they've been the source of all the awkward avoidance or disgusted looks I've experienced. It makes complete sense: cis women generally like being women, and most of them like it a lot, so why wouldn't they celebrate somebody else becoming like them? This really drives home how dishonest TERFism is: they present themselves as the voice of women, but really they're just a regressive minority, distorting the issues to lead people away from their inclination towards love and acceptance.

[princesskuragina]

My last post was being snarky but here's my genuine pronoun etiquette opinion in case you actually want to know: it's pretty much never a good idea to directly ask someone their pronouns in front of a group of people, especially if you're in a position of authority, i.e. a teacher. The stakes of this question are very high for some people and you are putting them on the spot to decide what they want to share and what is safe to share. If you have decided you want to ask for pronouns at all, you can introduce yourself with your own to remind people that they can share theirs if they want to. And for the love of god whatever you do please do not just single out the most gender non-conforming or "trans looking" (to you) person and ask only them and no one else

[bpdnchill]

Source

"Isn't it exhausting being someone you're not?"

"No! Isn't it exhausting being the same?"

[gabriellaspe]

[queer-ecopunk]

So, I'm trans. And several years ago, I was at my great grandfather's funeral. 17, newly on T, barely out to anyone other than my close friends and family. And I'm standing there at the refreshment's table, surrounded by strangers and members of my family's church, when George walks up to me.

This man is ancient, bent like a finger and frail. Tufts of white hair surround his wrinkled face. Like always, he's wearing thick glasses, massive hearing aids, and his veteran's hat. George was my first introduction to the concept of war, when he told me as a child why he was missing two fingers on his hand. He's been a fixture at church since I can remember. I've only ever seen him at there or in uniform at parades, the rest of his time spent in a nursing home somewhere. He picks up a deviled egg and says, in his quiet voice,

"You know, before your grandfather died, he told me that now he had 3 grandsons."

I'm frozen in place. I don't know what to say to that, if I should say anything at all. This is not a conversation I expected to have, especially not with this man. But he continues.

"I didn't know what he meant! So he explained it to me."

And I can imagine it. My great grandfather, uninformed and opinionated but supportive, explaining to his friend the news he barely understood himself over after-service coffee and cookies. His eldest grandchild was now a boy.

"And, you know, I didn't know what to think."

Here, George looks me up and down. This 90-something year old war veteran, who knew me mostly as the little girl playing in the church kitchen with his wife, processing what my great grandfather had really meant. It feels like a long pause, even thought it probably passed in a second.

"But you look good. So, eh!"

And then he smiled, shrugged, and walked away without another word. If I was fine, if I was happier, then that's all that mattered.

George passed away this week, at the age of 99. This memory has been bouncing around in my head for a while, but I wasn't sure if or how I should share it. It was a conversation that meant very little, but also meant the world. It was scary, and funny, and the moment when I realized that sometimes the people you least expect will accept you. Sometimes, even if they don't fully understand, even if they barely know you, someone will choose to support you. And that will always matter.

[kiitoskiitos]

confusing comic about existing as a trans person during confusing times of trans visibility.

[cat-in-a-mech-suit]

Being forcefully raised as a woman is not any less traumatic and emotionally repressive as being forcefully raised as a man. Femininity is not inherently pure and safe. Coercing someone to perform femininity is not any less toxic than coerced masculinity. Being dysphoric around femininity or having trauma from women doesn’t make you a misogynist.

[enfinizatics]

dear americans,

as a polish queer woman and human rights activist, i know exactly how you're feeling right now and what to expect from these elections. i lived through the 2015-2023 regime of pis, a right-wing populist party that divided families in the same way trump did. i’ve experienced the rise of fascism in poland, the influence of far-right parties like konfederacja, and their “santa’s little helpers”—ordo iuris, an ultra-conservative catholic organization (banned in many countries, mind you) that helped enforce a near-total abortion ban and runs anti-queer campaigns in public spaces. i supported the black protests in 2016 as a middle schooler when they first tried to ban abortion. as an adult, i actively participated in the 2020 women’s strike, running from police tear gas daily after they finally passed the ban. i supported friends who faced charges.

i’ve lived through intense homophobia in poland as a queer teen and adult. i survived the first pride march in my hometown, where far-right extremists threw stones and glass at us. i endured the anti-queer propaganda spread by the ruling party in state-owned media. i survived the “rainbow night,” poland’s own stonewall moment in summer 2020, when police arrested around 50 queer activists following the arrest of margo, a nonbinary activist. i survived the "lgbt-free zones," the targeted violence, the slurs from strangers on the street, and the protests i held against queerphobia. it was hard as fuck, but i survived.

but just because i survived, it doesn’t mean others did. many women died because of the abortion ban—marta, justyna, izabela, dorota, joanna, maria, and many others who didn’t survive pis’s draconian anti-abortion laws. milo, kacper, michał, zuzia (she was 12), wiktor, and other queer and trans kids and young adults took their own lives because of the relentless queerphobia.

despite all of this, our experience in poland can serve as a guide now. here are some tips for staying safe and how we, polish queers and women, organized under the regime:

safety first, always. if you know someone who’s had an abortion, no you don’t. if you know someone is trans, no you don’t. if you know people who help with safe abortions, no you don’t—at least not until you know it’s 100% safe to share. if you are queer or have had an abortion, only share this with people you trust fully. most importantly, not everyone has to be an activist just because they’re part of a minority. if it feels unsafe to share that you're queer, trans, etc., then don’t. it doesn’t make you any less queer.

use secure, encrypted messaging like signal for conversations on potentially risky topics, such as queerness, abortion, organizing counter-actions, protests—anything that might be used against you.

stay anonymous online. if you want to research or report something without surveillance, do not use regular internet. get a vpn (mullvad is affordable and reliable), download the tor browser (for both onion and standard links), and if you plan to whistleblow, consider using a riseup email account.

organize and build networks. community is everything now. support each other, foster independence, because your government won’t have your back. set up collectives, grassroots movements. create lists of trusted professionals—lawyers, doctors, etc.—who can offer support.

to lawyers and doctors: please consider pro-bono work. this is what got us through poland’s hardest times. your work will be needed now more than ever.

for protests or risky actions: always write a pro-bono lawyer’s number on your arm with a permanent marker.

get to know the anarchist black cross federation and other resources on safety culture: "Starting an anarchist black cross group: A guide"; Still We Rise - A resource pack for transgender and non-gender conforming people in prison; Safe OUTside the system by the Audre Lorde Project;

for safe abortion info or involvement: get familiar with womenhelpwomen.

stay radical, stay strong, stay informed: The Anarchist Library

if i forgot to (or didn't) include something, don't hesitate to reblog this post with other resources.

[sinistersuns]

hey look at this

Okay now we can get to the original post

😐

[evapeachess91]

If you will like me to come over say hi📩🔞💦

REBLOG🔁

[i-am-trans-gwender]

This is what being a trans woman feels like