Born That Way

Transgender is a public, interactive phenomena. It requires the participation of others, whether they consent or not. It forces someone else’s sexual arousal-based compulsion on unwilling victims in both public places and women’s protective spaces.

Transgender is violent domination and invasive colonization.

Transgender is rape.

I was not born to be raped. No woman is born to be raped. Yet, we are certainly being raped. By men.

There Are So Many Things Wrong With This

I’ve noted the parallels between homosexual activism and transgender activism pushing the idea that people are born with specific sexual orientations or gender identities.

I think this is all a red herring. It does not matter whether a person is born homosexual or not, whether it is a matter of choice or not.

What matters is that sexual orientation or sexual choice is none of anyone’s damned business. Sex is between adult consenting parties. It is a private consensual matter. When it stops being a private consensual matter, it becomes something else.

Gender identity is not a private consensual matter. It is about roles that have public ramifications. It is about transgressing boundaries. It is about girls and women being expected to tolerate intact males in spaces where the girls are obliged to disrobe. It is about traumatized women in shelters being expected to tolerate intact males in what should…

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A Post of Her Own

I made the following comment in response to Choco, regarding Lesbians who unknowingly enter into relationships with transgender birth-males.

“It is hard for me to express the horror that I feel for any lesbian who finds she has been targeted for abuse by a male-birth transgender, at any stage of his transition or presentment.” I chose those particular words in the previous sentence very carefully, in an attempt to acknowledge both my visceral reaction to the Cotton Ceiling agenda and my own confusion over why I should feel so strongly about this.

The Chosen Words:

Me – I have always considered myself to be bisexual. I’ve had relationships which were involved enough to include sex both with women and with men. I like to think that has been a choice on my part, but further introspection indicates it was largely conditioning. My interests, personality and communication styles are all stereotypically masculine of center. That is mostly a function of my upbringing. I tend to have more in common with men, and get along better with men, than I do with most women. I prefer having sex with women’s bodies, though. Hetero-normative is easier, but less satisfying, to me. So I have always oscillated between the two, trying to find the right fit.

Being bisexual is a problem for me. I don’t really fit anywhere – I am either suspicious or suspect. Inevitably, men interpret my dual orientation as being open to a variety of their sexual fantasies. I’m not. In fact, just the thought of their fantasies ends the relationship on my part. Lesbians don’t really trust me, and I don’t blame them. I have no interest in having a relationship with another bisexual woman, either. I tend to view bisexual women with the same expectation of “You want me to do what?!?!”, which I have always experienced with men. So, I guess I don’t trust them myself. Or, perhaps I didn’t trust the young ones, those with no significant same sex relationship experience. It’s been a while since I considered this. Which brings me to my next specifically chosen words.

Hard to Express – Not only do I not fully know what I want to say, but I also worry that I don’t really have a right to say anything. It feels presumptive to admit that I have very strong feelings about this. Especially, immediately following my own statement of historical bisexuality. It feels like appropriation, that I am claiming the pain that someone else is feeling for my own, when clearly, my life path has been different, and, in many ways, easier. It is hard to identify why I feel so strongly. It is harder to find words that don’t feel off limits to me. I do not want to alienate or talk over anyone who has been a victim of male appropriation of lesbian.

Horror – Horror, horrible, horrific. They all fit. As do many other words of fright and fear. I have a visceral, physical reaction to the thought of any woman-centered-woman opening herself up, in a trusting relationship, to an imposter. To someone who has fetishized her, and reduced her to an object, in order to not just possess her, but to displace and replace her. To erase her, and write himself into her place. It is demonic possession. Cannibalistic. Woman, consumed by man.

It is a nightmare come true. If I allow myself to dwell on it, and the underlying misogyny and patriarchal manipulation which created it, I feel violently ill.

I used not to have sex without STD test results. If I ever have sex again, it won’t be without chromosome test results. This saddens me.

Finds – I believe than any woman who is a woman-loving-woman, a lesbian, does not knowingly enter into a relationship with a male. Those that think they do, have become bisexuals or heterosexuals. They are no longer lesbians. His appropriation of lesbian is no less disgusting, but it is known and accepted by those women. They are a woman in a relationship with a man. That’s not a lesbian.

I use the word ‘finds’, to indicate that true sex was previously lied about or omitted. Duplicitous actions, behaviors and words were used to obscure the truth. The advancements in cosmetic surgery have been great. There are still many visual clues to biological sex, but I can understand that a less experienced woman might would find herself unintentionally in a relationship with a post-operative transsexual birth male. Or even emotionally invested in a platonic or pre-sexual relationship.

Targeted – Men have long fetishized lesbians. Their desire to watch two women perform sex for them. Their need to insert themselves into a sexual relationship between women. Their ego at diverting a woman from lesbianism and into heterosexuality. Their fury at being excluded from the life of something, not even a some one, that they have always assumed ownership over. And finally, their envy of our creativity, our ability to create. Men spray seed. Women bring forth life.

Abuse – It is abuse to use another person for your own purposes. It is abuse to mislead and lie to another. Believing lies is very psychologically damaging. You grieve the loss of what you perceived to be the truth. You damage your ability to trust others. You lose faith in yourself. Men who target lesbians do so specifically in order to abuse them.

Male birth – Woman has a very specific personal, political and social identification. It is sex based. Biological. Chromosomal. It is experience based. Phenomenal survival of a highly sophisticated system of dedicated destruction and oppression. It is a curse and an incredible triumph.

Men are not women. Men, no matter how much hormones they take nor how many surgeries they obtain, are not women. They never will be.

Transition is a false illusion. The male inside cannot be so obtuse as not to recognize this. He is not a woman. He will never be a woman. At best, he will look very like a woman. His construction of an artificial shell in which to hide underscores his duplicity. He intends to deceive others. Specifically, he intends to deceive them to his own benefit, for his advantage. His deceit is not done for them, it is an action taken against them.

Conclusion…. Maybe I have put lesbians on a pedestal. Maybe some are strictly attracted to the primary and secondary sex “features”, and don’t really care about the soul of the woman. I don’t feel that I have mis-judged lesbians, though. In my more attractive youth, certainly I felt some women more interested in me than our level of acquaintance and shared interests warranted. But it seemed more of a market availability attraction and less of an objectification. Lesbians comprise a very small percent of the population. In many cases, I felt like I was approached simply because I was interested in relationships with other women, who were also interested in a relationship with another woman. More of a get-to-know-you, less of an I-want-to-do-you.

But in no situations was it ever a deliberate attempt to disguise themselves and target me for abusive satisfaction of their sexualized fetish. It was never an attempt to erase me. To replace me.

It is hard for me to express the horror that I feel for any lesbian who finds she has been targeted for abuse by a male-birth transgender, at any stage of his transition or presentment.

Living with a Transvestite

From a Guest Blogger: Her experience of living with Fetish and Autogynephilic Transvestism. Its not you, its him.

Living with a Transvestite

It is not until now, in middle age, that I am able to express how the experience of living with a transvestite man has affected me.

I was very young when we met. He was a professional musician and was quite a bit older than me. He struck me as very sophisticated and artistic and I believed he was attracted to me.

We began seeing one another seriously and we fairly quickly progressed to a sexual relationship. I fell in love and was blind to the signs that all was not right, which I can see so plainly now. Like the times when a piece of my underwear would somehow be in bed despite me having undressed before getting in to bed. Or like when some of my things began to go missing.

Sex wasn’t brilliant and he began to insist that I wear underwear in bed, especially the girly, frilly stuff. I was puzzled but not overly disturbed. Still, after he had visited me, items of my clothing would be missing.

A few weeks later he invited me to live with him. Before I answered he said he felt there was something I ought to know. He told me that he was ‘interested’ in women’s underwear. Ok, I thought, what hetero man isn’t? I didn’t realise he meant wearing it.

So I moved in with him, still largely unaware of his proclivities and sexual interests. And his violent responses if he didn’t get what he wanted.

I remember that he wanted me to have a different bedroom from him. He said that it was to do with years of living alone and the inability to sleep with anyone near him. I had my own room and found that I was not allowed into his room unless invited. We still had but it was becoming quite infrequent. I felt it odd that so soon in the relationship his sexual interest in me was waning. It was at this time it became clear to me that he was ‘borrowing’ my clothes. Not just underwear but dresses, coats, scarves…anything really. He was taking these things surreptitiously, slyly returning them the exact way he found them. Almost. I began to set little traps in an attempt to prove what he was up to.

I felt unable to confront him over what was, to me, a huge violation. I felt it was somehow a failing in me, that I wasn’t liberal or open-minded enough. I kept trying to be ok about it but it made be very uncomfortable. I began to realise why our sex life had waned, it was because in reality he would rather masturbate that do anything else.

We skirted around the elephant in the room. We travelled abroad on holidays and he would insist on ‘time alone’, which was code for him dressing up in my clothes and masturbating. I once returned to the hotel room earlier than I had planned and he became extremely angry. The angry outbursts became more frequent as I fought to have what I considered a ‘normal’ relationship. In truth, I was afraid of him.

I realised at some point that I had to leave and waited until his job took him to Europe, packed up my stuff, left a note and found a place of my own. But it would take years before the wounds healed. I was young and beautiful then and yet I felt ugly and undesirable. I felt I had failed because I couldn’t be happy with the arrangement. I felt those things for years, always suspicious of any man who seemed interested in my clothes in anyway. I deliberately wore dowdy things and stopped having any interest in my appearance. I hated fashion magazines because to him they were pornography. I hated shopping for clothes because he loved to do that, getting an erection as he looked for items of clothing that were supposedly for me, but which he would wear.

I think women are put under a lot of pressure to accept relationships like this as being evidence of an open mind. Well, this relationship was a wholly negative experience for me. Even without the violence, I would have felt the self loathing and secret shame.

My advice to anyone in a similar situation would be to listen to your instincts and to put yourself first. Any behaviour that results in you feeling bad about yourself is abusive. If you are not comfortable then get out of the relationship because he will never, ever change.

Repeat Transgender Bathroom Offender Charged With Battery

THIS is Transgender. A sexual arousal-based social disorder.

Women have a right to physical safety, free from sexual assault, voyuerism and exhibitionists. Legislation won’t cure Sex Dysmorphia. Gender Identity and Expression laws only enable public practice of sexual disorders and male violence. Appropriation of female by males is violent erasure of legal protections specifically set aside for women. it is an act of hate. Misogyny. Any male who attempts to acquire female sex class is actively, violently invading and dominating women. Appropriation, invasion & possession of female sex class by any male through medical-legal transition is aggressive act of domination. It is rape of the female class. Rape.

Transgender and Male Privilege

Because I don’t Google, I was unable to post this response to Catherine Winchester’s blogspot.

Not buying it.

Males may give up some surface privilege transitioning to transsexual, but they have never, and will never, have that cumulative conditioning that carved acquiescence and subservience into their brains. They might feel the pushback from men, but they don’t feel the deeper struggle within the female mind to not just feel the pushback, but to identify it for what it is, internalize the hate (for it IS hate), and then struggle to convince themselves that they don’t deserve the hate.

MtT don’t have a CLUE what it means to have been born as a second class citizen. 10,000 years of oppression builds a powerful system, a finely tuned, highly effective machine. The experience of having been born into the hungry jaws of that machine cannot not be acquired.