#oh please get a trans man or even just a transmasc nonbinary friend and ask them about all the benefits of male privilege

[butch-bakugo]

"trans men benefit from misogyny" ok say that slower. Really think on it. Especially within the context of non-passing transman and non-male identified transmascs. Now say it Infront of a trans man. Please say it Infront of me. I will deck you.

[starry-skies-116]

Times I should've realized I was trans af-🏳️‍⚧️⚧🏳️‍⚧️

Back in 3rd grade, when my hair grew long enough, I’d tie it up into a ponytail, drape the hair over my head to make it look like a masc haircut, clip it so that it would stay in place, and then place a beanie over it to cover the clips. I’d always be in the school restrooms, pretending to be a man. One time I even walked into the boys restroom during recess- that moment for me was the most euphoric moment in my entire year of third grade.

One time, I wanted to a little social experiment at 13- this was before I got my first period. I went out masquerading as a boy with my Mum, and the shopowner called me ‘handsome’ and praised my mom for ‘raising such a good son’. I felt so happy until my Mum corrected the shopowner that I was a ‘girl’. Thanks, Mum. /sarc

I LOVED pixie and boycuts, but my mom forbade me from getting one (hence me doing the shit I did in number one).

When I learned the term ‘transgender’, I thought that it couldn’t possibly me me due to the stereotypes that have been implanted forcibly inside my head about gender roles. Then, as I watched more and more trans youtubers and videos and learned more and more, I realized “Hey, this shit actually fits me”. Sometimes I didn't feel any gender at all (agender moment-)

One time, I accidentally walked in on a guy peeing in first grade because his dumbass forgot to lock the door. I got chewed out by my disgusting and toxic first grade teacher way more than I should have, but it was in that moment that I realized “Damn. I wish I was born a guy.”

My original favorite colors were purple, blue, yellow, black and white. I was just brainwashed into being forced to like pink by my family because “OH YOU’RE A GIRL YOU HAVE TO LIKE PINK.” I was so uncomfortable with that statement, and aggressively tried to follow it to please my family until my friend said “There’s no such thing as boy or girl things, you do you.” So thank you, friend from elementary school, I owe you everything. 😀

Over Christmas, I’d always watch my cis friends get what they want as gifts. I’d ask for legos and dolls, they’d give me the ‘feminine’ version. I’d ask for new shoes, they’d give me those god-awful neon pink and purple ones. I’d want transformers action figures, they’d give me Monster High dolls. Not that I don’t like Monster High, but still. TF my mates.

I’d always want to attend the parties and community gatherings of the men in our community, and my Dad would jokingly say he’d bring me along if I was a man. My heart would never fail to NOT sink at such a statement.

MULAN.

Doesn’t matter if you think of Mulan as transmasc, transfem, nonbinary, cisgender or literally anything else. Every trans child watching this literally went *vine boom*. INCLUDING ME. YOU CAN’T DENY THAT, BUDDY.

Whenever my Mum would joke about me getting married to a man and having children, I would feel incredibly uncomfortable and ask to change the topic. Of course, they obliged, but the sour taste wouldn’t leave for at least an entire week- and that’s rich coming from me, because my ADHD ass usually forget things very quickly (could also be an intersex moment- I have a weird-ass relationship with ‘biological sex’).

When I got my first period at 13 years old, it was very light, just barely noticeable bleeding. It didn’t make me feel all too dysphoric, and I thought to myself: “Y’know, maybe having a period isn’t so bad.” That is, until my parents threw a Voni ceremony, a ceremony celebrating when an AFAB has her first menustration and she’s deemed physically and spiritually a young woman. It was SO awful, dolled up in makeup and jewelry and dressed up in all the saris they forced me to wear. I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror, but it would’ve broken my heart to shatter the happy expressions of my grandparents. Why couldn’t I have just been their grandson and not their granddaughter…? Actually, y’know what, screw it- even if I was born a guy, I probably still would’ve been trans. (enby moment-)

I was actually happy when me and my mother learned from my doctor that I had PCOS and was thereby intersex at 14. There was an explanation for my hair growth! I liked my body and facial hair- but then came when my mother subjected me to torturous monthly waxing appointments, diets, and forced birth control pills. They even told me I had a ‘high testosterone content’, discussing estrogen treatment, and referred to me as a ‘young lady’ throughout it all. It took all my effort to not cry on the way home.

One time, all my loose shirts were in the washer, so I had to wear a tight shirt. Not only was my autistic ass screaming at how tight and uncomfortable the fabric was, but at how it showed my chest. People were staring- they never commented, but I could already imagine their thoughts. I never wanted to perish more than in that very moment.

The only things I like about my current body are my hips and thighs. Oh, and my thick-ass sideburns, facial and bodily hair, and eyebrows.

I really want to be broad like an AMAB, have a deeper voice like a guy. I’d occasionally ask my parents ‘well what if I was a boy’ or say shit like ‘I wish I was a boy’. I still do.

[yikesharringrove]

Nb Steve as requested by @takemebythehand-andsetmefree

Happy Pride!

Here is a link to my post about Harringrove for BLM, and here is a link to Writers/Artists Against Police Brutality

Here’s also a link to the Masterlist of Harringrove for BLM coutesy of @harringrovetrashh

Thank you all for organizing, participating, and donating.

-

There is an instance where Steve gets misgendered, not by malicious intent, but it still happens, so take care of yourselves, don’t read if that could harm you.

-

“I think I’m a girl.”

This revelation wasn’t totally shocking to Billy.

Steve loved pretty things. Could be found more often than not jamming around in a little skirt, lots of makeup. So Billy just said

“Okay, Baby. Then I love my gorgeous girlfriend.”

And that was so sweet and all, but to Steve it still didn’t, it felt just as bad as boyfriend.

“Actually, maybe not.”

-

“I think maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

They were in Steve’s bed together, Steve laying practically on top of Billy.

“What makes you say that?”

“Parts of me feel like I’m a girl, and parts of me feel like I’m a boy. But all of me hates both of those options. I mean, I love looking like a girl, but when you, when you said girlfriend, Bill that felt just as fucking bad as boyfriend. I think I’m broken.” Billy shifted around until Steve was looking right at him.

“You are not broken. You are beautiful and amazing and confused. But you are far from broken. There’s more in the world than girl and boy. You can be anything, anyone.

“Back in California, I knew all kinds of people. I had friends all along the trans umbrella. I had a friend who was a trans guy, but preferred presenting for feminine. I had androgynous friends that presented however they pleased. I had friends who identified as no gender, or all the genders. I had a friend whose gender identity would change on any given day. Gender is fucking fake, and if you’re not comfortable with whatever you were assigned at birth, make something new for yourself.”

“I think that I’m somewhere in between. Not a woman, but not a man.” Billy grabbed the notbad next to Steve’s bad, drew a horizontal line across it.

“So basically, think of gender as a spectrum. Over here you’ve got women. This includes trans women, who are women that were assigned male at birth. One the other side you’ve got men, which includes trans men. In the middle, you’ve got nonbinay folks. Nonbinary is an umbrella term that just means these people live outside of man and woman. This includes agender people, who have no gender, and people who identify as more than one gender, like bigender or pangender. All along the scale you have people who are genderfluid and genderflux, whose definition of their own gender may slide along the scale at any given moment. You also have people that identify as demiboy, or reversely, demigirl, people that only identify partially as boy or girl, respectively. There’s also the idea of being transmasc, or transfem which are people who were assinged a gender at birth, but identitfy more with the other, without completely identify themselves as trans. So a person assigned male at birth who doesn’t consider themselves a transwoman, but more comfortably identities with feminity as a concept.”

He held out the drawing to Steve.

“There’s also different pronouns, and this isn’t even touching the intersex scale. Gender is so fucking whack, Sweet Thing.

“There’s a lot of different ways to play with it, and each person is so different. You can identify one way and present in a way that isn’t stereotypical to how you identify. And no one can tell you you’re wrong. Because you’re not.”

Steve was studying the drawing with wide eyes.

“Pronouns?”

“Like how I was assigned male at birth, and identify as male, so I use he/him pronouns. People along this scale can use whatever pronouns feel best. Some people use they and them so that they aren’t being gendered, and there are other gender neutral pronouns, like ze/zir and ve/ver.”

“But I mean, they is like, it’s plural.”

“Nah. They has always been used as a gender neutral pronoun. Plus, if it feels best, it can mean whatever the fuck you want it to.”

“So I could, I could like, be a them.”

“If that feels good.”

“Use it for me. Let me see.”

“Okay, um, I was laying in bed with my significant other, Steve and they were asking me questions about gender identity and expression. Afterwards I made them a cup of tea and cuddled them all night.” Steve’s eyes opened back up.

“Bill, that’s, fuck, that’s it.”

“They?”

“They. That felt, it felt good. I didn’t, I don’t even know.” Billy squished them tighter to himself.

“I’m glad, Baby.”

“So, does that make me nonbinary?” Billy just looked at them.

“Does it? You tell me, Sweet Thing.”

“I think so. Nonbinary. So like, maybe transfem? But I think I would be more agender”

“If that’s what’s true. You can call yourself nonbinary and leave it at that, or you can take as many labels as you feel fit. It’s your identity. Fuck with it as you see fit.”

Steve was worrying their lip.

“And you don’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m not, not a guy.” Billy pressed a kiss to their forehead.

“‘Course I don’t min. You’re still you. You’re gender doesn’t matter to me at all. As long as you’re happy and comfortable and safe. That’s what matters to me.”

-

Steve needed to tell the party.

They spent so much time with the gaggle of kids, and kept getting fucking misgendered. Not that it was their fault, they didn’t know Steve was using different pronouns now.

“Look, I know those little Gen-Z’ers aren’t gonna care. I mean they see me in makeup and dresses and shit all the time, but this feels, big.” Billy was driving them over to the Byers’ place where all the kids were waiting. “But, but what if they take it wrong. What if they just think I’m this confused girl or something. Or they say I need to make up my mind.” Billy reached over to grab their hand.

“If they do, I’ll punch ‘em out. One by one. Fuck them kids.”

But they all took it so fucking well, it was actually anticlimactic.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious you don’t conform to a gender binary.” Dustin hadn’t even looked up from their campaign as Steve fucking came out. “But like, thanks for telling us. And trusting us. You’re pretty brave I guess.”

Steve rolled their eyes.

“Thanks. You’re all so sweet and sensitive. I was shitting myself on the way over, and none of you are even fazed.”

“Yeah, I saw this coming.” Lucas rolled one of his dice.

“Do you want to do it again? We’ll all pretend to think you’re disgusting and call you a freak or something. Would that be better?” Mike had a challenging look on his face. Steve just slumped into the couch.

“No. Whatever. It’s fine.” They were actually pouting.

“What, you wanted like, a Lifetime movie moment? Where we all cry and say that we love you regardless and pretend we literally all didn’t see this coming?” Mike rolled his eyes.

“I mean, a little pomp and circumstance would be nice. Accepting myself and coming out to you all was a bunch of breakdowns in the making.” Dustin threw himself dramatically onto Steve’s lap.

“Oh! Oh, Steven! My sweet dear loved one! This is shocking news! But my love for you will never crumble! If anything, it is fortified!” Steve just laughed and shoved Dustin off their lap.

“Brat.”

-

“Can I just get a cheeseburger and fries?” The peppy waitress was twirling her ponytail, batting her eyes at Billy like Steve wasn’t right fucking there.

“Of course. Anything else for you?” She pat her eyes. Billy just blinked at her, completely dead-eyed. He gestured to Steve.

“Sorry, Girl. Didn’t see you!” She tried to laugh it off. Steve’s blood went cold.

“I’ll get the same please.” Her eyes widened at the sound of Steve’s voice, still deep, still masculine, despite the light blue dress, the pretty makeup.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get that right out for you boys.” She shot away, embarrassed. Steve let their head fall onto the table.

Billy ran his fingers through their hair.

“Two for the price of one misgenderings.” They muttered into the table. Billy was gently scraping his nails into their scalp. “That was like getting kicked while down Jesus.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I’m sorry I can’t totally understand how shitty it makes you feel.” They sat in silence for a moment until Billy tugged on their hair as the waitress approached with their food. She set it down cautiously.

“Could we get some ketchup, please. And they’re gonna want mustard.” Steve smiled weakly at him, they way he overemphasized using they.

“Um, of course. Anything else?”

“Could you grab them another water?” It was just less than half-full, but Billy couldn’t be stopped.

The waitress just blushed, filling Steve’s water and placing ketchup and mustard on their table with a little enjoy.

“Bill, she didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, but she still did. And I wanted you to stop feeling invalidated.” Billy shoved the burger in his mouth.

Steve just smiled at him, told him he ate like a pig.

[androgynepositivity]

I feel ... I feel like it’s not only an insult to trans men, but it’s an insult to butch lesbians and masculine nonbinary people who don’t identify as men to lump us all together. Or even the subtle things like the social dysphoria I feel when a woman smiles at me and says, “Oh but you understand this specific part of my experience as a cis woman, because you were raised as a girl.”

No. I really don’t get your experience as a woman. Yes, I’ve had periods. Yes, I’ve had menstrual cramps. Yes, I’ve been spending the entire first chunk of my life being treated like a woman. But I never want anyone to ever compare my experience to a woman’s experience again. Or to even imply that at one time my experience was aligned with it, because it wasn’t. And for the record, my experience wasn’t exactly a cis man’s experience either. I will never ever identify as a ‘cis man stuck in a woman’s body’, and to the transmen who feel that way, that’s YOUR identity. Not mine.

Butch lesbians are pillars of the LGBT+ community and I have nothing but love and solidarity for them and the historical butch lesbians who’ve fought for us. There’s also lots of crossover historically between butch lesbians who have fought for their identities as butch lesbians, and so do not change their terms despite feeling closer to identifying as a transman. No matter what, how they’ve identified themselves is what should be respected. Each person is their own case and should be treated as such. But there’s lots of examples of the communities of butch lesbians and transmascs intersecting and overlapping, and I am not here to tear that apart. I have nothing but love for the butch lesbians in my life, and the trans butch lesbians in my life, too. But I need to be defined apart. I deserve to be defined apart.

Masculine nonbinary people who do not identify as men also have miles of my respect because it’s so hard trying to define to others how you want to be seen, especially if it changes from day to day or week to week, but you know that you don’t want to be seen as that, whatever that is to you, and that is the worst thing imaginable most of the time. “I know what I am not, so please do not call me what I am not.” I think any trans person can relate to that much and should have respect for those of us who do not have solid terms for their identity yet or at all. But just because their is no solidity, it does not mean that they should get swept into the pile. They deserve to have their own place, too, apart from butch lesbians and transmen/transmasc people.

So the spotlight does not need to get jerked around because I’m literally just asking people to not make us share a spotlight. Give us our own spaces and stop lumping us together because you’re too lazy to spend the time we deserve from you to learn the differences at least from friend to friend. If you care about us, you will read this long-ass post and LISTEN to what I’m asking of you. This message is to cis women and cis men who call themselves allies.

Stop being cheeky and subtly cruel to your transmen and transmasc friends. We’re not your gay best friend who’s ‘safer’ to be around than your cis male friends. Like, yes! Of course I’m not going to do something horrible to you but that’s got nothing to do with my gender identity??? And even to compare transmen/transmasc people to cis men in that way is equally insulting. I’m not ignorant; I know cis men have the reputation for a reason. I’ve been on the receiving end of it myself. But I am also not a cis man and I’d appreciate not being compared to them, either.

I’m not your genital 'sibling’ that you get to claim ownership of without my definition of terms and permission. My experience with my body has never been and never will be that of a woman’s experience and I need everyone to stop smiling at me and implying that they understand just because they’ve had periods before. It doesn’t matter how I was raised. It doesn’t matter what my physiology is. I define my identity and the terms that I apply to all its parts, and you respect my definitions as gospel unless I learn something new and change. That’s all there is to it. Stop nodding your head when your trans friends speak and actually listen to us.

We deserve to have our unique identities respected apart from others, even if we share community and solidarity among each other.

We deserve to not be compared to the binary, which is often seen as a standard of humanity while we are the divergence, when our experiences are specifically unique to us.

We deserve to be heard as individuals and given room to speak or not speak on the way we identify or DON’T identify.

We deserve respect as unique identities apart from each other despite our apparent similarities.

.

Yes you can reblog this but cis people please do not add commentary.