u/MyClosetedBiAcct

That's it. That's the post.

She's awesome. >!And mine, you can't have her. I already called dibs.!<

Went to a 4h fair way over in a rural area and saw a booth for him filled with his yard signs. I didn't think much of it at the time, but looked at them with disdain and said, 'have some self-respect' just barely loud enough for the people working there to hear me.

Just making sure that my confidence that he's too.... stupid and evil to win our state, is like, deserved.

It has been... 6 months of estrangement from my parents. I went to said event because it was big, important, and I had already promised the bride/groom that I would be there and be part of their wedding.

My mother:

• Ignored me to tell my partner how happy she was to see her
• Came up to me and aggressively told me she loves me
• Accused me of not hugging her back when she went in for a hug and I obliged (using gray rock method as best I can here folks)
• Constantly came up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder or sat next to me so that I kept having to politely excuse myself a bunch.
• Grabbed my arm and pulled me in to dance with her and I had no idea how to pull away without making a scene after three attempts at disengaging.

My dad:

• Mostly ignored me.
• Near the end took me by the arm and DRAGGED me to a side area to ask me why I haven't been talking to them. Proceeded to tell me that we don't have to talk about it here at the wedding. Turns out my mom did the same to my partner to drag her away at the same time.

My partner is, infuriated, by being treated like an object/child and having her boundaries crossed and having been manhandled. I, tbh, didn't even register that that's what happened and simply shut down and nervously responded to everything with, 'I-I-I dunno.'

I'm glad to be done with all that. The posturing, fakeness, and intensity was a lot.

The existence of a porn category of my identity is not my consent for your degenerate deviancy. I am no more a fetish than someone who is a mom, or buxom, or of a minority race. Those porn categories are a reflection of YOU and your dehumanizing nature, not US.

YOU are the one's dehumanizing and fetishizing US. And we want no part of your degeneracy.

Just because you can't look at someone and see the human in them does not mean we are not human. We have feelings, emotion, lives.

I am not a porn cateogory. I'm just a trans woman. I'm a person who likes dungeons and dragons, writing, machine design, reading.

If you see me in public telling grandiose stories to my friends at the bar and you can't help but imagine me in skintight leather that's YOUR OWN FUCKING PROBLEM and has nothing to do with ME.

Stop sexualizing us. We're literally just people trying to get by in a world that uses us as a distraction to outrage idiots and keep them from noticing overt corruption and child abuse.

I started HRT looking like a severely unkempt depressed man with deep wrinckles and bags under my eyes. Like, I was in my late twenties looking like I was in my late 40's. I have MEMORIES of looking like a grandpa.

And now I look like some youngin. I walk into the bathroom in the morning feeling exhausted and see some pretty girl in the mirror. I look.... Too young for myself to even consider dating, if that makes sense.

Like it's no wonder people treat me like I'm inexperienced, I look twenty years younger than I did five years ago.

They're like, 'don't you want to look like a girl?'

Yes, that's why I dress the way I do. If I wear women's clothes then I look like a male crossdresser. But I've been on HRT long enough that if I wear mens clothes I look like a female crossdresser.

I'd rather be seen as a girl in men's clothes than a boy in women's. What's so hard about that? It's not the clothes, it's how my gender is read.

And here's what happened:

• I didn't scream at him
• I didn't cuss at him
• I didn't pick him up by the back of the neck, drag him to his room, and throw him into his bed while telling him to go the f- to sleep
• I didn't growl angrily at him
• I didn't throw his stuffed animal at the wall in a fit of rage
• I didn't kick him across the room
• I didn't lecture/yell at him about how I need sleep for work for an hour while jabbing him in the sternum with my pointer finger.
• My spouse didn't scream at me to stop hitting him and that I was killing him

Instead I:

• Chuckled
• Ruffled his head
• Sleepily opened his granola bar wrapper and gave it to his stuffed animal to share.
• Carried him off to his bed, smooched his forehead.
• Laid next to him while he quietly jibber jabbered for a half hour to himself until he fell asleep (I didn't understand a word).
• And accepted that I was going to be kinda tired at work in the morning.

I'm tired, and he's not traumatized like me. I'm glad he feels safe enough to wake me up in the middle of the night for something innocuous and silly.

I'm kinda fucked up from being raised by those monsters, but that doesn't mean my kids have to be. My therapist said that modeling my behavior out of who I don't want to be is probably not healthy, but they're such a good blueprint on how not to be a parent.

'Þ' makes the 'th' sound in Old English, and the word 'Þey' is the first written occurrence of the use of a gender neutral singular 'they' in (old) English. It first appeared in1375, in the medieval romance William and the Werewolf.

It's mostly a joke, but I like to give the little history lesson.

Anyway, ideas for y'all to steal.

In retrospect it's kinda a 'duh, no shit' moment, but I wanted to share my insight. And this is very explicitly from the perspective of a white trans woman in middle america, me.

There are hair-beauty standards that are vastly enforced by white supremacist worldviews, I've always kinda knew this, in my peripherals, but I'd never actually thought about it. Like, I understand that black newscasters have relatively recently been not-straightening their hair to be on TV and that it was a movement that I didn't really understand and didn't think too much of.

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Blonde's typically darken up as they get older. And little blonde girls specifically get a LOT of compliments on their very white features, and when those compliments stop it can be jarring to them. (Hair and eye color are two features that we can more easily notice as having levels to whiteness and thus white supremacist beauty standards)

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When I walk around with my natural reddish hair and my irish curls, these cis women compliment me like I'm... empowering to them. And that has always confused me because it's literally just hair. I don't have that learned shame from exposed natural hair that doesn't fit perfectly white beauty standards.

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And there, that is one aspect of actual (white) 'female socialization' (ew, I hate that phrase) that I never actually experienced.

Why else would he want me topless in the men's locker room?

For starters, didn't know I had CPTSD until a therapy appointment the other day. Didn't even know I COULD HAVE a ptsd episode. Therapist says my brain must think I'm in a safe enough space away from them that it's allowing me to work through my feelings for the first time.

It was so bad that I spent three days stuttering and unable to really form sentences, and another two days after that twitching involuntarily.

I'm finally back to normal but the shit I can now remember from my childhood is so heinous and awful that I can fully understand all my complicated feelings towards them and why this has been so difficult. I haven't felt guilt, I've felt fear. I don't know how to really sugarcoat this so I'm gonna put spoiler on the things. >!They raped me a LOT and nearly killed me on multiple occasions. They used me like a sex object during their sessions, and my dad's rage and violence nearly killed me multiple times, I can still hear my mom screaming at him to get off of me he's killing me. I can see him hitting her. I can feel myself being yanked around, hit, hiding, running away.!<

I don't know how many of those memories are real, how many are exaggerated, but I do know that they've left me unable to do my work and talk to people and I'm thankful I work in a cubical designing because I did not need my boss seeing me tweak out.

I now know that the complicated feelings around why I feel like I need to appease them. I'm terrified of them. I'm afraid of upsetting them. I'm afraid for my fucking life. I never want those violent >!pedophiles !<anywhere near me or my children. I hate that they're so well liked in their local community.

I've been NC with them because I finally got sick of their gaslighting and status quo and their transphobia and their racism and their homophobia and their xenophobia, I didn't want my children growing up anywhere near the casual usage of slurs. At least now I know why they've spent nearly thirty years trying to convince me that I'm delusional.

No. That's wrong, stop spreading that misinformation.

You cannot change your gender. Your gender is an immutable part of your identity, your Ego, your ID, your soul. You can't change that. What you're born with, you're fucking STUCK with. That's why conversion therapy doesn't fuckin work! We transition so that our bodies match our gender.

You can change your sex. And most of us do.

We go on HRT, we go from MALE to FEMALE, or FEMALE to MALE. We have more in common with an intersex person of our chosen sex than an endosex person of our birth sex.

We DO IN FACT CHANGE OUR SEX TO MATCH OUR GENDER, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND.

Stop fucking that up please, I'm tired of seeing that take online. Especially when it's from my fellow trans people, all of whom should know better.

New elderly coworker kept asking about my 'husband' and when I said 'wife' she said, '....oh.'

And now refers to my wife only as my good friend, or my....... friend.

3 months of NC with parents. Been surprisingly peaceful until this past friday. While relaxing for bed I suddenly had a memory of my childhood, a little daydream ritual I used to do to help fall asleep. (The Six Flags theme song which eventually faded into the intro to All-That)

I decided to follow that thread into... my repressed childhood memories. Which turned into a good two hours of word vomit to my partner as I relived, not remembered, a ton of things that connected a bunch of dots around my childhood. Awful, horrible things.

A lot of my childhood ticks came back. Bodies still going through it a little. Involuntary twitching has been days long at this point but it's starting to fade, my stutter finally abated as well.

I have no real way of verifying any of these memories, but I told my younger siblings what I could remember because they've got small children that they allow our parents to babysit often. Instead of taking the info and like making an informed decision on whether or not they believed me, they've been trying ton convince me I've got false memories and to not trust my own brain.

I don't necessarily know what actually happened to me, but I can confidently say that I'm never associating with those people again. I did, agree, to go to a wedding a while back and they will be there and it's next month so I'm admittedly pretty freaked out over that but I should be fine, I've got an escape plan and all.