The comment section
It’s been one of those weeks where I’ve just had to try my best to close my eyes and scroll past the news articles and their comment sections. Sometimes I still can’t help but make a comment of my own. I no longer allow myself to enter debates or arguments; I simply state my own personal experiences and anyone who reads it can do with it what they wish. My comments usually garner likes but very rarely any rebuttals which I put down to the manner in which I express myself. Previous attempts to correct, debate or argue would be jumped on by those who disagreed and were desperate to prove their stance whereas simply stating some of my feelings and experiences is less provocative and isn't easily argued since my comments are not statements or claims, they're just my life. But still, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t exhausting to see these threads in my feed almost constantly again at the moment, especially with the recent Elliot Page interview, Laurel Hubbard possibly being the first trans woman in the Olympics, the GRC fee being reduced and... well, Caitlyn Jenner’s typically tonedeaf shenanigans.
Actual news aside, there's also the influx of articles that feel like they were posted entirely with the intent to stir up the trolls. "Transgender people do change their sex – it is discriminatory to say otherwise" was an article this week, actually written by a trans person, that just seemed like a dangling carrot and golden opportunity for everyone to say just how much they disagreed with trans peoples existence. It may be well intended, but you know exactly what the response to an article like that will be and it will not be pretty. I think back to my younger self, sat alone wondering if I'd ever be accepted, seeing the countless and overwhelming majority of comments that gave the very clear message that no, I would not be.
My comments usually centre around the fact that I'm just human. Which is sad really, isn't it? That I should feel the need to remind people that I am a person. A person with family, friends, interests and dreams just like you. That I'm not a political point or an agenda, that I am not "the trans community" - none of us are; we're all individuals, that I am more than being trans. That it's ok not to like Elliot Page or Caitlyn Jenner, but to please take a moment to consider all the trans people reading comments like yours every single day and coming to believe that the world truly hates them. It's alienating, it's lonely and it's damn near impossible not to let it worm its way into your own sense of self-worth after years of seeing the same consistent hostility directed to people like you.
I like to disarm the comments surrounding "biology" with my own reasons for transition - not because I want to claim to be biologically this or genetically that, not because I have any desire to deny that I was born female nor change that fact, not to claim some sort of mythical "100% sex change" which yes, even trans people know is not possible - but that transition for me was simply about living in a way that felt genuine and aligning my body in a way that was not constantly distressing for me. My body may not be typically male nor typically female and that's fine, all it needed to be was home. That all I request is that I am respected as a person.
At this stage of my transition, lower dysphoria aside, the politics and general social climate surrounding trans people is probably the worst part of being trans and one of the only things that brings being trans to the forefront of my mind when it normally wouldn't be. At a time when my transition is pretty much over and I am able to just live I still see it drag on in the mindsets of others.
But why does it bother me so much?
I think, as I've previously spoken about, the fear for my future is a big one. The concern that what were previously fringe movements are gaining traction and having real world effects on the lives of myself and other trans people. That the public in general are either indifferent at best or supportive of these groups at worst.
The other thing is that my own journey to self acceptance was plagued by these attitudes and comments and this was by far the toughest part of my transition. To think I'd never be accepted, never be loved, to see every-day regular people on Facebook (Facebook is one of the worst for me because of this fact; they're not faceless trolls, they're just regular people, average job, 2.5 kids, like those I see every single day) spewing such vitriol for people like me, to constantly wonder if the people in my life also secretly thought these things, to see the "you'll always be a woman" comments, to feel like a freak, an outcast, an inconvenience, to see people speak with such hostility and vitriol. To see my existence reduced to a debate or an ideology. To think that the only interaction people care to have with me is one to assert their own views and opinions on people like me. To have transitioned and reached a point where I finally feel like and see myself only to worry that no one else ever truly will.
I did come to believe that society hated people like me, that no one would ever view me as a whole person, that I would forever be less-than, a novelty, a debate, an unlovable abomination in the eyes of others.
But I don't feel like that any more. I have my self worth and I worked hard to find that after years of being beaten down. Sometimes I do wonder if I will ever find love - being trans certainly complicates that for reasons outside of whether or not someone is an ally. But what gets me now is the sense of injustice of feeling completely misunderstood and misrepresented. To have ideas and actions wrongly attributed to me because we are all seen as the homogenous blob that is the trans community. Caitlyn Jenner does not speak for me, Elliot Page does not speak for me, that article that you read online - even if it was by a trans person - does not speak for me. I want to be heard as an individual, as a person.