I read yet again, some XY man, with a dudes name, a dudes face, a dude’s body, is offended beyond when, given no hint he prefers Them They pronouns, gets all shitty on me, when I refer to him AS A MAN. I experience him as a man. He looks like a man. He talks like a man. He acts like a man. He is a man. A man man. A manly man. Tell me first if you want me to call you something other than he/him if you present as a He/Him. I know I am clever an all, but I am not fricking psychic! I will do as I am asked IF YOU FUCKING TELL ME, because I am polite. I won’t bring up the fact that I experience you as a man. I will wander off and go do something else with my time. See yourself as you wish. But you can’t force me or others to see you the same way. I am the personification of be kind. I am gentle. I am non violent. I am supportive. Be who you want. You do you. You can’t make me do you too.
That is the thing, isn’t it. How we react to people is very much about how we experience them from our point of view. I see a dude in the women’s bathroom, I experience him AS A MAN in an all female space, where women are partly unclothed and vulnerable. I experience him as a threat. He is merely getting off on validation. I am the one that just wants to piss. I’ve taken to never going to the bathroom outside the house. Ever. I wait till I get in, I plan my drinks, I dehydrate. I don’t have that desperately needed bottle of water because if I need to pee, it is just too risky to use a public bathroom. I plan my day. As far as I am concerned bathrooms are not for me, there is no women’s bathroom anymore. There is a “risk it if ya dare” or else pee your pants.
Ill be kind. Ill concede that women’s spaces are forever gone. I will accept calling you as you wish if I am forced to talk to you. I don’t talk to men in person. It is a rare man that face to face in real life, that I will have anything to do with unless I am compelled to. It is too risky. It is too dangerous. I am too scarred by men to do so. I have one decent eye left, one decent ear. One leg that works. Men took the rest. So I won’t ask for forgiveness for not wanting to deal with men.
I read stuff by men that purports to be feminist. Hint, boys, if you are gonna do feminism you can be PRO feminist, but unless you were born female and are a girl who grew into a woman, you just are NOT gonna get it. You can’t. Mama told you that you can be anything you want to be? Yeah, she lied, Nasa probably don’t want ya, and you can’t be a chick. You can be a transwoman. A glorious transwoman with legs that go on forever and ever, and an ass I would die for. You can be a beautiful transwoman, sassy and sweet, shy and retiring, fierce and proud. You can be you. But you cannot be me. I’ve given up on our toilets, our sports, our female places in political parties and just about puke every time I see long nails and fluffy shit thinking it is now the domain of the male who would piss over women. Piss on it. Take it. I don’t want it anyway.
As for this men getting pregnant shit, any thought for the baby? Any thought for the risks to a baby? Nah! Its just kink and validation. I see baby dolls meant to be stuffed up anuses and expelled used as sex toys. I mean, what the fuck, boys what the actual living fuck. It is a kink. I don’t care about peoples kinks as long as it is not hurting anyone, consenting adults and all this jazz, but this kink is being forced onto women everywhere. We are forced to participate, we are forced to capitulate, because you know what…these people are MEN and MEN have the fucking power. It’s patriarchy, baby!
Trust me, if I thought I could be a man, I would have opted out years ago. I would have opted into a man’s body, a man’s life, a man’s safety, a man’s ability to be a father without having to birth or subjugate himself to his kids needs. Heck I’d be the ultimate Disney dad, dispensing shoulder rides and candy whilst the woman dealt with the shit and temper tantrums! I would have been a glorious man, like Lou Reed, snappy and snarly and I would have been cool and sardonic, not bitchy and witchy. I would have pissed up against walls! I would have never had to wear a dress that leaves me feeling vulnerable. I would have smacked my fucking husband back in the mouth and because I was strong we would have fought like equals, and I would have walked away from my kids with barely a care in the world! What a twisted view I have of being a man…yeah…because I am not. I am a woman. I see things from my side, as you see things from yours.
I’ve given up. My friends haven’t. I see them denigrated, dragged through courts, beaten in streets, fired from jobs, all because of men’s temper tantrums. I see lovely butch lesbians trans and then sometimes detrans, left with horrific medical conditions as a result. It is a bonfire of the vanities, and all of it is utter total shit.