What makes me so special?
Once again the homophobes are trying to express themselves as if they were reasonable people. "Why do you have to be special?" They complain about us queers getting attention and cluttering up the media with our concerns.
Well, let me tell you, I am not special, nor do I wish to be special. I didn't want to be singled out in grade school then told by the adults it's because I "insist on being different." I was just trying ot be me, like everyone says you should! I was also trying to conform as dictated by my peers and the adults. I was clearly failing. I didn't want to be told I was unique, or weird, or that I didn't fit in. I didn't want to be teased for my clothing choices or how I sat, or tilted my head, or my intonation when I spoke. I didn't walk in and say "Hey look at me, I'm better than you." I walked in and everyone expressed some form of dismay at my arrival. Bullies picked on me with temerity as the others stood back smirking. the adults told me to try harder to "be like the others." Oh, I tried that too. I got called a =copy cat and punished, again, for mimicking people. "Be like us, but don't copy us. Be one of us but not exactly the same. Pretend it's your natural personality but don't look fake."
Am I special? Why? I don't sit right. I don't talk right. I don't think aobut myself right. I was told I wasn't presenting myself correctly for my gender. "Sit like this, walk like that, stand like this, use your hands thusly, and make it look natural." I was punished for failing to comply.
Punishment began with criticism and cruel jokes, then extended to theft and vanalism of my property, and finally if I had to keep showing up because the adults wouldn't let me escape, physical assault. Then, because I still couldh't vanish, even trying suicide failed me, I was left in a corner alone, unless some psychopath needed someone to hurt.
I found some relief in High School with the chess club because I was pretty and the geeks were so thrilled to have my attention they didn't police my behaviour. But as an adult trying to find work, the problem persisted. I was told I was too confident, too assertive, too outspoken and self assured. or conversely,, not confident enough/ I wasn't "reading the room." I "didn't fit in." I wasn't a proper "lady" and nevermind the moralists who expected me to pursue marriage and motherhood! Whether a job, a hobby interest group or a volunteer gig, I was asked to leave, time and time again. After awhile I learned to read the room well enough to know when I was going to be asked, and leave before having to endure that scene. Even at university they tried to push me out with cruelty, but I had paid for this and I knew they couldn't force me to leave, if I could only endure the bullying.
Even on the street, strangers would call out insults, throw things at me, and threaten me with violence or even rape. I didn't walk feminine enough. I didn't stand feminine enough. I was doing all the fashion things with clothes and hair and makeup. I felt like a drag queen, and they'd tell me I was overdoing it. If I under did it, they'd tell me to try harder. If I tried hard, they told me not to try so hard. Be natural.
Where I ask, oh reasonable cisgendered heterosexual smug person with a lucky life? Where were you when they threw insults and stones? Where were you when my school books vanished while I was in the bathroom and the entire class, including the teacher just smirked at my confusion and giggled while I searched the room for them? Where were you when they rounded up the gays and arrested them for kissing each other? I know where you were. You were right there smirking along. Or, perhaps, you quietly snuck away, unable to watch the cruelty. Perhaps you clucked your tongue lightly, or said "oh, I don't know, seems a bit cruel" then got quiet when they told you we deserve it.
How about when I came seeking solace and support, someone to stand with me, or even comfort me after the fact? You stood there stone faced and told me I should be someone else if I want to be at peace. "well you souldn't be so..." So what? Sio self confident? so strong of character? So self assured? I'm supposed to openly express shame all day, every day, so you can pat me on the back, all superior, and tell me it'll get better someday? Oh, but be XYZ that you aren't, and do it convincingly. Well, that's the same as saying "go to the personality shop and get swapped out for someone we can relate to, we don't like you." Yes, sit this way, walk that way, speak only when given permission. Read the room and figure out whos the bos and cater to them. Be quiet and say nothing but somehow still contribute meaningfully. Don't show us what you're good at but be so good at it we notice, but we won't, because you are in the shame house and mustn't be encouraged.
It's a loaded gun for me. I cannot conform nor be myself. I don't mind being alone, you understand, I have that worked out just fine. I do mind being without food and shelter, however, or forced to live next to the same dysfunctional types who've made my life hell! I'm not allowed to live with "nice people." No, I'm thrown in with the addicts and psychopaths and forced to make my way in the gutters and ditches because "nice people" don't like transgenders people. It's got nothing to do with sex. Nothing. It wasn't about sex in grade school and it still isn't about sex now. It's about herding and xenophobia and that "social lubricant" of not ever making waves or being an individual.
So many jobs later, I still don't have a :career: because I couldn't do what I was allowed to do, and wasn't allowed to do what I could. All because it wasn't correct for my gender. You say gender is irrelevant but you've made my life a living hell over the subject. "A lady is supposed to blah blah blah."
How often have you smirked at a transwoman who shows the marks of testosterone in her face and body and voice? How often have you teased a man for being too delicate of feature, too short or fine boned? How often have you teased someone for being too mannish, or too effeminate? What have you done in your life to make up for these sins? Now you have the outrageous nerve to tell me I don't deserve the attention I'm demanding! I don't deserve to be proud of myself? Well I am. I know myself better then you do and believe me, I am tougher, stronger, kinder, and more courageous than a hundred of you combined. I will step in and stop an assault on the street, be it a man with his woman or a group hounding a weirdo. I beep up in forums and groups when someone makes a sexist joke or insults someone by calling them gay. This does make me special. This does make me better than YOU. 100%
Queer people don't want to be special, but we clearly are. We have ton been permitted the privacy you all say we should use. We are singled out, sought out, hunted, and picked o,n for special treatment. We clearly ARE special, aren't we?
So until you can stand to see our rainbows and hand holding and "ugly" gender mashups that don't turn you on (as if that was our goal,) you're going to see us being special. I don't need to look pretty or handsome, you know? I need to look HAPPY!!!!
Oh, and me? I'm not even welcome in queer spaces. I'm female to male, the least accepted of all the queers. Drag queens have opened up the acceptance for female to males, and lesbians have made a place for manly women, but girls who don't want to have babies, gossip and drama, and aren't interested in trolling for sex or dissing men, we're not welcome in gay spaces. I can't hang with the men, to whom I feel a kinship, and with whom i have the most in common, because I'm a "girl." I can't hang with them women, because I'm not one. We FTM transpeople are gaslit by our families, doctors, and communities as uppity women trying to be above our station, or perhaps raging sex addicts trying to bag conquests. The juxtaposition of queerophobia and misogyny means we're the least among the least. Unwelcome everywhere unless we can "pass" as cisgendered, like online where they can't see me or hear me and have to take me at face value. How I've made it this far with my wits intact is a pure miracle.
I am real. I am naturally queer. I am unable to just go away. Trust me, if there was some mystical land of uicors where I was welcome, I would be there. You guys are rotten company.
signed: an old queer.