Here’s the thing: I had compassion. Metric assloads of it. I don’t anymore.I poured my heart and soul into my volunteer work. I corrected pronouns in private conversations. I regularly posted trans-acceptance thinkpieces on my personal pages. I would verbally and outwardly challenge men on their views on transgender people. I would discuss it with my conservative family in order to educate them on trans issues. I educated my workplace and my boss on trans issues. I talked the talk and walked the walk. My activism stretched into my personal life. I was at the marches, I was at the demonstrations, I was at our city hall’s steps every Trans Day of Remembrance.According to many, I was the model trans ally. So what happened?In the span of a few months in 2015, I encountered a series of events that challenged my idea of what feminism was. Event number 1: Cathy Brennan. My group of mostly online based activist friends decided to attack her for basically no other reason than she happened to exist, and I went tat for tat with her on Twitter. I couldn’t answer her questions without resorting to sexist stereotypes of women or circular logic of what the definition of a woman was. I’m a woman in STEM and science is my career, and I was deeply uncomfortable for weeks with how I was unable to logically answer her.Event number 2: While searching for answers that would prove my (then) stance on gender ideology, I came across the Deep Green Resistance, r/GenderCritical, and Tumblr blogger auntiewanda. If you can’t prove that you’re right, you may as well try to be thoroughly disgusted with the enemy, right? Know thy enemy. I was expected to be turned off of radical feminism and “terfs” forever but instead, I found a large group of women who had a solid understanding of how misogyny works, and were able to logically explain what they believed. It wasn’t violent, it wasn’t murderous, and it wasn’t anything like what I thought terfs were for years. The picture that had been painted by my years of transgender advocacy was not matching up with the group of women who welcomed me and allowed me to ask the questions that I’ve been desperately seeking answers to.Event number 3: After several encounters with radical feminists on various different mediums, I was again feeling very uncomfortable and then began to notice misogyny everywhere. I noticed in my local LGBT group how the transwomen spoke over and for the transmen. I noticed that transwomen were generally more successful and were represented more often than the transmen in LGBT advocacy groups. I witnessed several gay men openly discuss how much they liked penis, but as soon as a vagina was mentioned in any circumstance, the woman in question was swiftly silenced by the transwomen or other activists (usually bi women) for fear of “transmisogyny.” I saw my activist circles say nothing in regards to the Cherno Biko case and his victim’s call for a critical assessment and address of sexual violence against transmen by transwomen. Event number 4: I criticized the notion that lesbians were obligated to date transwomen, and my entire social life was put on notice for a week. I was socially outcast and isolated for suggesting that no one was obligated to sleep with anyone.The silence was deafening, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Instead of abruptly announcing why I stopped advocating for transgender people and swiftly breaking ties, I slowly dropped my commitments, one by one, and slowly began to cleanse both my personal life and online life of people who profited off of my years of relentless emotional labor. I am replacing these individuals with radical feminists that I’ve met both online and now IRL. I am likely attending my first WoLF Fest this year.I’m not sorry that my patience finally broke and my emotional labor dried up. Yeah, I’m rude as hell on here sometimes and I don’t give a fuck anymore. The transgender movement, both IRL and in online spaces, did nothing but take. It compromised my physical and emotional health, it caused me horrible stress and self esteem issues, it involved me in so many volatile and emotionally abusive relationships, and it silenced me whenever I so much as insinuated about reproductive health, male violence, and issues that affected many of the natal women in my circles. No one can withstand that kind of shit forever: when you pour your heart and soul out for people who use and abuse you in return, you mourn. You lash out. I’m still bitterly cynical and I’m still unable to think of most transgender activists without anger. I know I’m not alone on that front.I have never felt like I belonged anywhere in my life until I encountered the radical feminist community. Yeah, we have our shitty infighting too but we all still belong. I had been a part of so many LGBT organizations over the years and, even though I’m technically represented in that acronym… I never felt like I belonged. I was always on notice, I was always being graded and judged, and I DARE not discuss issues that are specific to me as a bisexual woman (unless it was shitting on lesbians.. that was the only bisexual discourse allowed). Radical feminism felt like coming home, and I’m intending on staying there.The transgender community and transgender activism is rife with unchecked misogyny and homophobia. Is it really any wonder why I lack compassion as both a woman and someone in a homosexual relationship, after having stood by transgender activism’s side for so many years?
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
origamiaround
