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whump-tr0pes · 6 months ago

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Honor Bound 6 - 32

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: past hallucinations, PTSD, past abuse of a minor, attempted confrontation with abuser, abuser co-opting language of activism, gendered slurs, fucky headspace about abuse, thoughts about self harm, flashbacks, harm reduction

Isaac only realized he had been tensing every muscle in his body when Gavin started to fall asleep. It happened slowly at first, Gavin’s head relaxing into the pillow, then the pained lines in his forehead disappearing bit by bit. Gavin’s breath slowed, and his hand released its death grip on Isaac’s shirt. Gavin’s leg twitched, as it sometimes did as he was drifting off, but Gavin didn’t wake. Then, and only then, did Isaac take a full breath and release the tension that had been surging through him since Gavin had looked at him with suspicious, terrified eyes and refused to take the medication that would bring him relief.

It was only through sheer will that Isaac had not collapsed to his knees right then. Isaac had withstood so much within these past weeks, and could have withstood more; the ever-present fear of Gavin’s death had hung over him like a sword both waking and asleep. Isaac had nearly watched Gavin die. He had thought he had watched that very thing.

And yet, nothing could have prepared him for the moment Gavin looked at him in distrust, in fear, and thought Schiester was the man standing before him.

Isaac crushed the thought before it could fully bloom. I have him back, he thought fiercely. It’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s more than I thought I would ever have again. If this is… If this is the price…

He shuddered and wiped his eyes. Even having Gavin look at him with that much distrust, it was worth it. Of course it was. He leaned forward, brushing his lips to Gavin’s forehead as gently as he could manage. Gavin drew in a shuddering breath, but stayed asleep. Isaac’s chest ached as he gazed at him, his eyes lingering on the darkened, puckered scars that stretched over Gavin’s nose, cheek, and eye. If Gavin was awake, Isaac would kiss them. For now, Isaac just wanted Gavin to sleep.

An icy finger of dread brushed down Isaac’s back. He turned his head towards the front door, listening for a sound his body had known to listen for before his mind even registered there had been a noise. Even through the closed bedroom door, he could hear the front door open. He was up and out of the bed before he had time to draw breath.

“Don’t fucking shoot, Isaac, it’s me,” came Vera’s voice.

Isaac’s fingers ached. His hand was already in a fist at his waistband, closed over a gun that wasn’t there. He panted heavily and rushed out of the bedroom, terror and rage ebbing away, replaced with sharp annoyance.

“Shh.” He closed the bedroom door behind him and glanced at Vera – and Gray, who stood behind her, face like a stormcloud. “Gavin’s sleeping. He has a bad—” The rest of his thought evaporated when his eyes returned to Vera – her eyes were wild, a muscle standing out in her jaw like she was trying to crack a molar. “Wh-what?” he breathed.

Vera snorted. “We should probably talk,” she bit out, voice thin with sarcasm.

Isaac’s stomach dropped. “Oh… fuck, what—”

“Vera met Rosa,” Gray said darkly.

Fear punched through Isaac’s chest. In the same breath, hope threatened. “Is… Oh. Is she… alive?”

Vera barked out a mirthless laugh, then covered her mouth with a hand and threw an apologetic look at the closed bedroom door. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Ah… yeah. She’s… she’s alive. Because someone—” She roughly elbowed Gray in the ribs. “—wouldn’t let me murder her in front of this town’s mayor.”

“Kali isn’t the mayor,” Gray said, their tone only a little imperious. “But forgive me for not allowing you to burn one of the few bridges we have up here.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vera said. A slight smile undercut the harsh words. “But yeah, uh… we should probably… talk about that.”

“Talk about what?” Isaac said. His hands were starting to shake. “What is there to talk about? She did what she did, and I… did what I did, and—”

Gray stepped forward. “Isaac, that’s not—”

“—now we just have to… deal with her. That’s just how it is.” He pulled a shaking hand through his hair, forced himself to breathe – then breathe again, and slower. “If we’re going to… coexist—”

“They’re dead because of you. You know that? We went out to fight and you were supposed to be there, to protect us, and you weren’t. You preferred to not take the shot. You preferred to run like the useless piece of shit you are.”

He shuddered. “We h-have to—”

“But we don’t, Isaac,” Gray said carefully.

“Vera said we’re not allowed to kill her,” Isaac said, doing his best to loosen his hands from the fists they were in.

Vera rolled her eyes. “You know where I stand on this issue,” she sighed. “But yeah, like Gray said, we don’t actually have to deal with her. At least not all that much. Because she doesn’t actually live here.”

Isaac stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he said, “What do you mean, she doesn’t actually live here?”

Vera massaged her temple and gestured for Gray to speak. Gray wet their lips and said, “We just finished speaking to Kali. And… meeting Rosa, unfortunately. Kali said she doesn’t live here, she just gets mail here and passes through every now and then. And that… well, Kali said she would like to mediate a conversation between you and Rosa.”

“When?” Isaac choked out.

Gray spread their hands. “I… don’t know. She didn’t say. Rosa left in a huff before we could work anything out.” They gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea, Isaac. At least you would have a chance to air your grievances. But either way, Kali wanted to do it because she thinks it would help. And because… well, because essentially we aren’t allowed to keep trying to kill her every time we see her.”

Isaac surged forward and staggered out the front door. Vera and Gray stumbled to follow.

“Wait… where are you going?” Vera said.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Isaac whimpered. “I can’t… keep wondering when she’s going to turn up again, expecting her around every corner. If Kali wants to do this fucking talk, and this is what it’ll take in order for us to live here, then fine, but…” He muffled a sob into his hand and dashed tears from his eyes. “I’m not fucking waiting. I’m doing this now. I…” He stumbled, then stopped. His heart pounded against his lungs as he sucked in breath after too-small breath. “Wh-where is she?” he rasped.

“Rosa?” Gray said cautiously. “I don’t—”

“No, Kali,” Isaac said. “If she wants to have a talk, I’m going to talk to her now.”

“I don’t know, Isaac,” Gray said. “When we saw her she was in the post office, but—”

Isaac whirled and began to jog down the lane into town.

Gray and Vera hurried to follow. “She might not still be there, Isaac!” Gray said, already breathing hard. “She, I told you she was there, I have no idea if she—”

“Call her,” Isaac said over his shoulder. “Call her and tell her to meet me.”

“Isaac, stop,” Gray said. They skidded to a halt and braced their hands on their knees to catch their breath. “Let’s talk about this.”

“No,” Isaac begged. Gray raised their gaze to his. “Don’t make me fucking wait, Gray,” he croaked. “Don’t make me keep going through this. Please.”

Gray straightened and took a deep, wheezing breath. “Fine,” they said roughly. “But I’ll go with you.”

Isaac turned on his heel and kept walking in the direction of the post office. His heart felt bruised; every beat felt like a blow to the inside of his ribs. Vera fell in beside him. Gray lagged behind, tapping away on their cell phone. After they sent off a text, they jogged to catch up.

Goosebumps rippled across Isaac’s arms and back. He didn’t speak as they walked into town, didn’t glance at Vera as they all passed by the shops on either side of the street. When he finally laid his eyes on the post office, his stomach twisted like he might be sick.

“Is she there?” he said thickly.

Gray checked their phone. “She responded,” they murmured. Then, “Yes. She’s there.”

Fear and revulsion thundered through Isaac’s veins as his feet carried him closer. He couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers when he reached out to grasp the worn wooden handle on the door. He didn’t wait to take a breath before he yanked the door open and walked in.

Only Kali stood inside. Isaac’s throat tightened and he turned to look at Gray, eyes wide with terror and confusion.

“I… meant Kali was here, not Rosa,” Gray said, shaking their head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“Where is she?” Isaac rasped. He looked helplessly at Kali. “You said you wanted to talk, so…” He held his arms out wide. He hated himself for how hard he was shaking. He blinked back the tears that threatened in his eyes. “I’m here to talk. I’m not… not armed, so…” His hands fell to his sides again. “Let’s just get this done, if this is how you think we should handle this.”

Kali’s brow was deeply creased as she looked at Isaac. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright,” she said carefully. “I see you want to… make things better.”

“No, I just want this to be fucking over,” Isaac whispered, so he wouldn’t choke. The tears in his eyes spilled down his cheeks. “If you want me to talk to her, I’ll talk to her. If that’s what I have to do, then…” He shrugged and held his arms down at his sides, hands balled into fists. “Let’s just get this done.”

Kali held Isaac’s eyes with a steady gaze. “Isaac…”

“Now!” he cried. Kali flinched back minutely from the booming command. Isaac buried his face in his hands and muffled a sob. “What the fuck?” he breathed. “You wanted to talk, can I please just—”

“I’m sorry,” Kali said in a rush. “Isaac, I’m sorry for causing you grief. I didn’t mean to, please believe that. But I… well, maybe you should just read it.” She pulled a phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to Isaac.

On the screen was the end of a text conversation between Kali and Rosa.

September 22, 2030 2:45pm

Kali: we got mail for you today

September 22, 2030 9:50pm

Rosa: thnk u

September 28, 2030 10:22am

Kali: I’d like to resolve this between you and Isaac Moore’s family. What do you say to having a conversation with him that I mediate? This would be planned and in a neutral location, with no threats allowed on either side, with safety and repair being the goal.

September 28, 2030 10:24am

Rosa: r u serious? fuck that actually

September 28, 2030 10:24am

Rosa: I can’t believe ur taking his side

September 28, 2030 10:25am

Rosa: after everythng I’ve gone fr the resistance I can’t believe this

September 28, 2030 10:26am

Rosa: if ur willing to allow those people to stay nd continue to spread their lies about wht happened to Jordan, fine. ur in charge here. but I will no longer affiliate w Laporte. this isn’t just smthng u can just ‘mediate’. consider me gone.

September 28, 2030 10:30am

Kali: I understand you being upset. I’ll give you some time to yourself and reach out again in a few days.

September 28, 2030, 10:30am

Your message cannot be delivered.

Isaac realized he was breathing hard when the words on the screen began to blur. He held the phone out with a shaking hand and looked up at Kali.

“What…” His mouth was dry. He swallowed hard. “What does that mean? What…”

Kali threw a glance at Gray, who was looking at her inquisitively. “It looks to me,” she said with that same sense of unending patience, “That she isn’t interested in having this conversation or… being in Laporte anymore.”

“Give me that,” Vera snapped, and grabbed the phone from Isaac’s hand to read the last exchange. She snorted and looked up at Gray. “‘I will no longer affiliate with Laporte’? Is she serious? Was she somehow contributing in a huge way to the resistance that we just… haven’t heard of over the past several years?”

Kali opened her mouth to speak. “I—”

“What, is her presence here so fucking special that her refusing to come here anymore is some sort of punishment?” This time, Vera fixed her eyes on Kali. “Well? Have we just misread this?” her lip pulled back in a snarl.

Kali met Vera’s vicious gaze with her own steady one. Finally, she said, “Sometimes people lash out when they feel hurt. Her identity as a resistance fighter is clearly very important to her.”

“Perhaps, then, she should work on being an effective one,” Gray hissed from the corner.

Isaac still stood in the center of the room, shaking like a leaf. He kept waiting for fear to hit, or rage, or relief. Nothing rose up to fill the emptiness that had opened up inside him. He felt like he might buckle under his own weight.

“Wh-what does this mean?” he repeated.

“It means the trash just took itself out,” Vera spat. “I wouldn’t spend any more time worrying about her, Isaac. Apparently being confronted with the truth is enough to send that bitch packing.”

Isaac’s eyes and mouth were dry. He swallowed hard, swallowed again. “She’s… just gone?” he said softly into the room. The words seemed to fade into the buzz of Vera’s rage and the pounding of blood in his ears. “She just… left?”

His eyes snapped to Kali’s when she took a step closer to him. She had to crane her head back a bit to look up at him, but she met his eyes without blinking. She reached out and took both his hands in hers. They were rough, calloused, but warm and dry. She squeezed his hands in hers, and he found himself squeezing back.

“I am so, so sorry,” she said, her voice so kind that it brought more tears to Isaac’s eyes. “She clearly hurt you so much, and I’m sorry. I was hoping for some kind of healing. But… I hope this is a solution that works almost as well.”

Vera snorted. Isaac couldn’t see her where she stood behind him, but he could see Kali’s mouth tighten in response. “I understand if you see this as better,” Kali said.

“The woman was okay with using a child soldier as her own personalized bodyguard and hitman,” Vera sneered.

“I wasn’t a child when she first brought me into the field,” Isaac said, releasing Kali’s hands and turning to face Vera. “I was… t-twenty-one when she—”

Vera held up a hand, silencing Isaac. “I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped. Isaac’s mouth fell shut.

Kali cleared her throat softly. “If I might suggest something, Isaac,” she said. He looked down at her and waited for her to speak. He was tired in his bones, tired in his soul. He was tired of fighting, tired of being afraid. He was tired of being tired. She wet her lips and said, “It seems like the people who hurt you… well, it seems like they’ve all decided to stay in your past. So maybe something that would be helpful for you… would be to start by learning that the things that were done to you… were indeed mistreatment? Were indeed unjust?”

This time, it was Gray who snorted. “I’ve been trying to tell him that for… oh, over a year at this point,” they said with a gentle, good-natured laugh.

Isaac couldn’t find it in him to laugh, or cry, or even reach for the flame of anger that always burned inside him. He shrugged, a hollow, jerky movement. “Probably, yeah,” he said flatly.

Kali’s mouth pursed, and she gently patted Isaac’s shoulder. “Alright,” she said. She glanced at Vera and held out a hand for her phone. “If I could have that back…?” Vera placed the phone in Kali’s hand, and at least had the dignity of looking a little embarrassed for having snatched it away in the first place. Kali tucked the phone in her pocket and rubbed her hands on her worn jeans. “Well,” she said. “I’ll… I’ll keep y’all posted on the goings-on of the town. And I’ll make sure you get notified next time mail gets dropped off. I know that… once you’ve settled in, it’ll feel like home. I’m… sorry things have started so rough.”

For a long time, no one said anything. Isaac’s jaw ached as he clenched his teeth, swallowing over and over against the lump in his throat. It was the only sensation in his body, and he clung to it, all too familiar with the numbness that was creeping through his veins.

His knife could chase the numbness away, he knew that. It had done it so many times already. If he just took his knife, and—

“Who gave you this, huh?”

“M-my—”

A blow lashes across his face, spilling the tears that had been brimming in his eyes. He presses a hand to his stinging cheek and returns his frightened gaze to the woman kneeling in front of him. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, he didn’t, but he’s been awake for two days already, maybe three, he lost count, and he’s so tired…

Rosa is fiddling with his pocket knife, the one with the sharp steel blade and the red plastic handle, the one he has using to try and keep himself awake, the one given to him by his—

“My… dad gave it to me,” he hiccoughs, fighting back a sob.

Rosa chuckles, folding and unfolding the blade from the pocketknife. “Your dad, huh?” she says, her voice cold and sarcastic.

“Yes, please give it back…” He reaches for it.

She snatches it back, out of his reach. “No,” she says with a vicious grin. “You fell asleep on watch. Second time this month. Clearly giving you triple duty didn’t teach you better. Maybe this will.” Isaac’s stomach drops as she folds the knife a final time and tucks it into her pocket.

“No!” Isaac sobs, and lunges for it. He’s so tired, he’s so tired, and Rosa easily trips him. He goes sprawling into the dirt.

Rosa snickers and walks away. “Don’t fall asleep on watch again, Isaac,” she says, not bothering to look back. “You won’t like what happens if I catch you doing it again.”

Isaac blinked and shook his head against the sudden memory. His right hand was curled into a fist – no, curled around his father’s pocketknife, lost forever because of the mistakes he had made.

Enough sensation returned for him to register a weight in his stomach as he released his fingers, one by one. He felt the loss of his father’s knife as if it had just happened – as if Rosa had just walked out the door with it a few minutes ago. He swallowed against more tears and pressed against the unhealed cuts at his wrist.

“Gray,” he said weakly, unable to feel embarrassed when his voice cracked as if he was sixteen years old. “Can we head home? I… I’d like to… I need some ice.”

He felt Vera’s confused gaze, but didn’t look at her. He turned and looked only at Gray.

They took a deep breath, let it out. “Of course,” they said gently. They stepped forward and tucked him under their arm. “Thank you, Kali, for meeting us again so soon.”

“Anything y’all need,” she said with a shrug. She gave them a kind smile as Isaac let Gray lead him out of the post office and back out into the morning sunlight. Isaac wound his arm around Gray’s waist as they walked. Vera followed silently behind. Isaac could feel her confusion and curiosity, but couldn’t bring himself to explain the ice right now. She would find out when they got home anyway. For now, Isaac let the tears fall freely as he walked down the main street of Laporte, not caring if anyone else noticed.

Continued here

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#honor bound 6 #hurt/comfort #angst #past hallucinations #PTSD tw #past abuse of a minor #gendered slurs tw #fucky headspace #self harm tw #flashbacks #harm reduction

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many-but-one · 6 months ago

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Trauma Informed Biases and TERFs

In light of my ex-best friend being outed as a TERF, I think I want to have a series of discussions. Mainly about the biases that we (community "we") can have and that trauma and biases work hand in hand, and how we cannot allow trauma-informed biases impact our decision making or critical thinking skills, but also a bit about my experiences as a trans man and how being trans yourself doesn't mean you automatically escape transmisogyny. (Spoiler alert: while I'd never say I was transmisogynistic in action, I was in some part biased due to my past traumas, and having a transfemme partner and seeing the way she's treated by others just for existing had to make me rethink everything I understood about what it meant to be a trans woman, which has made me a better person--and I believe a better partner, too.)

First, I'm going to talk a bit about trauma-informed biases. As trauma survivors, we all have them. For example, we were primarily abused by white, Christian men. By all accounts, when we encounter a white, Christian man, we are immediately wary of his intentions. Often without even knowing him or trying to know him, we will already assume he's just like our abusers deep down. While that may sometimes be true, more often than not, a white Christian male who hasn't done much self reflection and growth will mainly just be misogynistic to various degrees and probably not understand the weight of his privilege. That doesn't automatically make him a pedophile who tortures kids like our abusers were.

Branching off from that, and narrowing it down, we get to the meat of the problem, which is men. We have met and known cis men who are by all accounts nothing like our abusers, in fact, the exact opposite. They are sensitive, they are caring, they know their privilege and use it to uplift the voices of their female friends. They are avid supporters of the queer community even if they aren't a part of it. While they are sometimes misguided, they are also always open to learn more and be corrected and change. There are good men out there. However, this doesn't make our bias towards men change. We were hurt by men, we know others who have been hurt by men. People both AFAB and AMAB have been harmed and subjugated by men for centuries, so it's not like it's coming from only our experiences with men.

However, this is where the problem lies. While it's okay to be wary of men for our safety, outright hating ALL men is where it gets dicey. That's where radfem ideology will suck people in, specifically AFAB people. They feel wronged by men, they have been hurt by men, so of course in their mind, men have to pay in some way. Feminism on its own sets to destroy the patriarchy and keep everyone on even ground, whereas radfem ideology often trickles into spaces related to that vengeance aspect of men needing to pay for what they have done in some way. And truly, I can understand. From the bottom of my heart, I can understand. I want the men who hurt me and hurt my friends to pay too. Vengeance (or justice, as many would prefer to call it) is a tantalizing concept, even if only in theory due to how shoddy the justice system is at actually bringing any justice to survivors' lives.

And when an AFAB person enters a radfem space, they will immediately be in danger of developing TERF ideology. This is what happened to the aforementioned friend. Most people will already know who I'm talking about. I think they started in a good place, but the biases that they already held within them were taken advantage of, and they let their trauma-informed biases take root and allow them to follow that TERF path. For the record, they still deny being a TERF, but as everyone has already seen, they most certainly are. TERFs will *rarely* actually self-identify as a TERF, even if they are spouting the most clearly TERF-ridden ideology known to man. The reason for this is because TERF is a "bad word" (rightfully so) and the baby radfems out there who are trying to avoid becoming a TERF are going to start by avoiding anyone who self-identifies as a TERF. Which of course, is not what TERFs want. They want baby radfems to feel welcome and not immediately shun what they teach them, because TERFs do eventually want those anti-TERF baby radfems to eventually become TERFs just like them.

[As a side tangent: I know I sound like I'm calling TERFs predatory in the way I describe their tactics, but I'm going to be completely honest in the way I believe a lot of TERFs utilize cult tactics to find new radfems or radfems who are on the fence between feminism and radical feminism and get them to join their cause. If you examine the BITE model (Behavior, Information, Thought, Emotion)--what is often used to define a cult--it's very clear that TERFs WILL use emotion-based tactics and manipulative tactics to get baby radfems to join their cause, and once their thought processes get changed and they lose their friends who don't jive with those beliefs, they get stuck in the echo chamber. And then they'll get pressured to believe more and more extreme things with the threat of ostracization from the "in-group" for not agreeing. And if someone has already lost all of their friends for joining this in-group in the first place, where else to go but to stay? See what I'm getting at, here? While they may not be as damaging to their own members as some cults, they DO cause a threat to others, namely transfemmes. People in power who share those beliefs make laws that distinctly work to harm transfemmes, e.g. JK Rowling providing massive amounts of funding towards anti-trans legislature.]

So how does this relate to trauma-informed biases? How do we get from disliking or hating men to becoming a TERF? Well, because TERFs utilize bioessentialism as a weapon. They reduce everyone down to the parts that they have (or were observed to have) at birth. While a TERF may not outright say "everyone born with a penis deserves to die" they WILL outright say things like "well, I just think AFAB people ("real women") should be allowed to have spaces that are only for them, you know? They shouldn't be forced to be around women who aren't AFAB" (if they will even acknowledge that trans women are women at all, more often they consider trans women to be men masquerading as women or accuse transfemmes of outright trying to invade women's spaces to hurt them). This is especially apparent in the lesbian side of TERFdom, where they try to use the justification of "not being attracted to penises" to explain that trans women shouldn't be allowed in their spaces. Which, to be completely honest, I do think it's fine to be attracted to certain genitalia and turned off by other people's genitalia, but you also shouldn't let that guide you toward completely excluding trans women from lesbian spaces. You can just choose to not date trans women and call it a day. Is it pretty lame to reduce someone to a set of parts and only date someone based on a set of parts? Yeah, it is, but you're within your rights to date who you want to. You just shouldn't exclude them from the entire space altogether based on your preferences.

For the record, I used to be part of this group of people right here. There was nothing I had against trans women, I was just extremely terrified of the parts they have due to my past traumas, and I didn't want to make a trans woman feel like I was afraid of them for the parts that they have. I didn't want my fear of sexual situations with her to ruin whatever romantic attraction we could have, and I was certain for a long time that this would be true forever.

Until I met my current partner, who is a trans woman.

I'm going to segue into how being a trans man (technically we are genderfluid but we usually present as a trans man to most people) doesn't automatically mean you cannot hold biases against trans women or even be outright transmisogynistic, and that while I do believe trans men have their own slew of issues related to being trans men (such as being perceived as a traitor to your AGAB, or the first time you get clocked as your correct gender but not in the gender affirming way, in the way that the women that you have always held so much community with think you're a cis man and are afraid of you. That's a tough one to come to terms with, personally, and is also why our system tends to lay within the "butch lesbian/faggy trans guy" section of transmasc, so that while we definitely do get clocked more often, it also helps the women we care about so much in our communities know we're not cis. Because no, our goal is not to be to be as cis as cis can be and so our gender ambiguity that we express does us a lot of favors while also opening other doors for trouble, like harassment for appearing as a faggy trans guy or as someone who's clocked as a lesbian) they are a completely different ballgame than what trans women have to deal with on a daily basis just for existing as they do.

Things I've learned about trans women's experiences that I never knew before:

-They may never be able to fully pass and that puts them in danger of harassment or even death for the rest of their lives

-if they come off as too loud or too intense for someone, they will immediately see them as a danger even if the transfemme in question is one of the kindest human beings you've ever had the pleasure of meeting

-if they don't talk in the somewhat-stereotypical "quiet, demure, trans girl" voice or for any reason dress in a more butch or non-hyperfeminine style, they are going to be seen as a threat despite any actions they will have done to prove they are not a threat

-if a trans woman likes to be around kids, some people are going to immediately assume they're a pedophile. This one deeply saddens and disgusts me more than I can even describe

-if they are talkative or ask a lot of questions about something and they come off as a little too pushy or are socially awkward/autistic, people are going to immediately assume they need to be afraid of her despite there being no evidence of that being a conclusion that needs to be jumped to, or they may label her as "creepy"

-if she decides not to opt for sex change surgeries then she's clearly just a man pretending to be a woman, if she opts for sex change surgeries, she's a trap. Same for if she passes well or not. If she passes well, she's a trap, if she doesn't pass well, she's a freak

-people will assume she's always trying to manipulate them in some way, as mentioned above. If she passes well, she's manipulating them and tricked them (usually for sex, but could also happen in a romantic situation). If she tries to disclose that she's trans early on, she might risk out on them leaving her just for being trans and not actually getting to know her as a person

-if she's into sex or hypersexual and comes off strong, at best she might be labeled as pushy or creepy, at worse she may be labeled as a rapist

-additionally, trans women are extremely fetishized, but once she has autonomy and is seen as an actual person and not a fetish object, all of that attraction goes away and she's seen as a trap or gross or whatever other vile concoctions people have come up with to describe trans women in a sexual light.

-many, many more things that I couldn't even begin to list in this post.

All of these affect a trans woman every single day. She's at nearly just as much if not just as much at risk of attack as cis women are. She's much more likely to hear the word tranny in a negative context than a trans guy is. While a trans guy could get called a tranny, sure, they're significantly less likely to be attacked or even killed for being trans. Trans men are often labeled as "confused little girls" which is infantalizing, yes, but trans women are often labeled as creeps, rapists, or manipulative/evil people. Imagine what that does to a person's sense of self? Their self image? Even if she's never done anything remotely that bad, she's going to be labeled that anyway.

And gods forbid she ever does anything that could be seen as kinda "weird" or "bad"--not in the morally reprehensible sense. I mean like she cheated on someone or she does drugs or she says something a little tone deaf ten years ago. Trans women are forced to live life on their tiptoes for fear of being told they are evil monsters. I've seen with my own fucking eyes someone who I thought was an ally to transfemmes (they were dating a transfemme!!!) who immediately demonized another trans girl because she was socially awkward and autistic. Tried to make assumptions that she must be abusive to her partner, tried to claim that because of one interaction with this girl, they already knew that she had antisocial behavior (which I find funny that she says this to us, someone who has significant ASPD traits), which to me alludes that they believe she could be manipulative and hurtful. All because she was a bit awkward in a social gathering! I was appalled and disgusted by this, and it really opened the door beyond what I'd heard from my partner already the types of things that trans girls have to deal with from people that are within their own community that they should be able to trust.

So what does this have to do with not letting our trauma-informed biases rule the way we think about others? I'll keep it as simple as possible with this little flow chart:

Someone (usually AFAB) has trauma with men -> they hate men -> they join the feminism movement -> they veer into radfem spaces because of how vocal radfems are about hating men and they feel they are justified to believe this because of the harm men have caused them personally -> they become a TERF because radfems see people as a set of parts rather than what they actually are -> TERFs spread hatred and vitriol towards trans women in particular -> that hate and vitriol leaks into the LGBTQ+ community because a large number of TERFs are lesbian cis women -> trans women are unable to feel safe even in their own communities

Trans women deserve to feel safe in their own communities. You can be the biggest trans woman supporter ever and still not be a good ally. I thought I was a great ally to trans women before I realized that I was equating trans women's struggles with my struggle as a trans man. And until you really understand what they go through and see it with your own eyes, you may never truly realize just how difficult it is to exist as a trans woman AND you may realize you had biases you didn't even know you had. Existing as a trans man =/= existing as a trans woman. I didn't even realize I had any bias towards trans girls until I realized that I had decided (rather young I might add) that I wouldn't date a trans girl because of the fact that she was AMAB. I didn't realize how much this completely screwed up my view of trans women until I examined it under a microscope, AFTER I fell in love with a trans girl. I don't want y'all to feel like you have to fall in love with a trans girl to understand their struggle and to question your own biases. (though I will say, dating a trans woman has been the best relationship of my life, I love her so much).

Examining your biases and understanding what is trauma-informed and what is an actual issue is paramount. Being wary of cis men is kind of a given, considering the amounts of violence cis men do upon people and have been doing upon people for hundreds upon hundreds of years, but you can't let yourself get into the rut of outright hating cis men just because you've been hurt by cis men in the past.

Interestingly, I've also been abused by cis women, though rarely in as violent of contexts as cis men. I've made myself look at that under a lens too and it made me realize that I greatly distaste old women, and for me, especially if they are 50 and older--though some parts of my system also struggle with any woman older than her mid thirties. I will almost immediately assume an old woman doesn't have my best interests at heart, though it's different than with cis men. While I may assume a cis man might violently assault me in one form or another, I typically have different assumptions with older women and it's definitely something I'm going to have to also examine under a microscope and try to pick apart to really understand if my assumptions are based on verifiable truth ("all old women are bad," like the "all men are bad" assumption) or based on my traumas. My traumas are my own personal truth, but I can't let that affect my relationships I have with men and older women for the rest of my life. Or I could end up a TERF, or like one of those people who were happy that old people were dying of COVID. What a miserable way to live, you know?

-Delphine (she/her)

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