it strikes me that internalized cissexism[1] plagues our communities. we try to prove to ourselves that we are trans by asking ourselves if we would, in the press of a button, bring our selves and bodies into alignment, and in that act, make ourselves cis. we wonder and we obsess, pondering the question, “am I trans?” but we never ask “am I cis?”
but this self-directed transphobia runs much deeper. how many grieve for the selves they lost, for the person that might have been, had they been born cis? in this, we never stop to ask ourselves, “what would I have lost?”
for myself: everything I cherish, all I value most. to be cis, I must give up the experiences that have shaped me most, and in so doing, I’d make of myself someone else. there are many painful things I might have wished to avoid but, looking back, I see a clear trajectory of necessary action taken quietly and without fanfare to survive what had to be survived until freedom was within reach. to dream of living some other life would be a critique of that person inside who worked so hard to bring us to this point of inner tranquility and outer safety. and really, what do I have to critique? should I castigate the child for repressing in an unsafe home, especially after learning now, as an adult, that my father would hurt or kill me if he learns I’m trans? or should I reprimand the young woman for learning to endure, internally divided, and oh so alone? but, one might ask, “what of your body? do you not transition to make it as cis as possible?” to this: no. my trans body has endured so much, with both strength and grace, and it will weather so much more; I dare the coming storms.
rather, I transition now to make this body habitable for her, for the scarred and indomitable woman who would leave her mark on the world. I transition because a little remodeling frees her from repressive chains. I remake tomorrow, not yesterday. if instead, I chased a platonically perfect body, if I rumimated on the experience of a cis childhood, lost to the circumstances of my birth, if I obsessed over the impossible, I’d forget the diamond, dreaming of a reprieve from the heat of her makers’ forge. I do not wish I were cis.
[1] the notion that we are all cis, with perhaps an asterisk to note the disquieting, uncomfortable, growing population of exceptions who wish they were cis, and must be helped to it.
I wouldn’t be a commie if I wasn’t trans, I also wouldn’t have most of the awesome friends I have who are themselves all trans. As miserable as it can be, there’s no fucking way I would want to be a cis woman, or god forbid a cis man.
I fuckin love my country
I feel like I’d be a totally different person, it’s almost impossible to predict. Maybe I’d be a Mormon housewife with 50 kids or something cause I have a pretty absurd maternal urge. But I feel like my life would be kinda sucky without the trans community
I’ve been permanently split on whether or not I’d be cis if given the choice. I question if my gender dysphoria would end, or if my feelings of dysphoria would pop up in my other shortcomings of traditional womanhood. However, I agree with you. Being trans has made me have to look through so many other lenses for understanding, it’s ultimately made me more empathetic
If there was a magical third option in these magical scenarios where I get to have a womb and ovaries and a girl childhood but also I’m still trans I’d take it. Because I like being trans! I get to wake up every day and be happy that I’m a girl. And the cultural weight of the oppression does kind of force one to consider how all struggles - the struggle for trans healthcare and trans lives, the struggle for black lives in the US, the international struggle against the only half proverbial Empire, the struggle for housing and food, etc - how all these struggles are really just refractions of the one primary struggle and that we have so much to gain by uniting, like the miners in the UK and the LGBT activists of the 80s finding out the power of solidarity.
Beautifully written.
I just wish I could be enby in peace. If we were all cis, I’d certainly lose that and I don’t think I’d be happy either way - girl or boy. At that point, I’d just toss a coin to decide, to be honest. I think it’s why I so strongly wish for a gender abolition future. It’s the only world I can imagine myself happy (as far as gender is concerned at least).
Im an mtf closet case that cant transition (too much IBS, anxiety, living in a body is hard enough as it is, im too old) so idk wish the cure for gender dysphoria existed. Would prefer being cis. All being trans gives me is a perspective on how everythings bullshit. It doesnt give me anything special.