So anti-trans activist Jonah Wic (and self proclaimed “feminist”) grabbed a photo I hate to shame me.

I want to make this SUPER clear. No one needs to call me a woman. You can use whatever pronouns

No one needs to pity me.

I am a late transitioner — I know what look like...

I knew it was too late for me at fifteen years old — my masculinizing puberty and Norwegian genes giantafied me and I compartmentalized hard core.

It was traumatizing. I didn’t date. I persued transition and backed off. I kind of cocooned...

My story is so common it’s fucking boring.

With years of therapy I was able to come out as trans not because I wanted to fit in — but because I was able to free myself.

I am able to exist in the world unafraid of what some asshole dude like Jonah thinks...

It is NOT easy. I have tried to own it. In Out Magazine I wore a Brick dress.

Brick is a slur for giant/non cis passing trans people. Like plenty of marginalized folks I have to own what culture sees as the bizarre and monstrous —

I’m hardly the first. When I talk about trans culture I am talking about the culture of living WITH un-belonging.

In this essay The Seam of Skin and Scales by Little Light they say

“It is time for a feminism of the monstrous.”

https://sites.google.com/site/theseamofskinandscales/

Or this article by @jostruitt that is a trans feminist take on Buffalo Bill and Silence of the Lambs. http://feministing.com/2016/03/10/my-auntie-buffalo-bill-the-unavoidable-transmisogyny-of-silence-of-the-lambs/

Embracing the monstrous has been CORE in queerness and feminism.

In a “embrace your fears” party I put moss on my mountain troll back. I painted plastic surgeon’s marks around my face — I am terrified of surgery.

I’ll often throw on a monstrous hand and used the hashtag #castshadiasavillian when I believed the only role for me was as bad.

I have a dental abnormality where my canines grew in one tooth over from most human’s mouth. I have been told my whole life I have vampire mouth.

I collect Ursula — she is my icon.

Here is me invited to my beauty standards gorgeous icon Amie’s cat girl birthday party. This is LA — it was mostly all models. Tons of my friends are models. I DO NOT fit in.

Amie was murdered in her home by an ex on Valentine’s Day this year.

So now we get to the point. What Jonah and the GCers is missing is that I am NOT delusional.

I know who I am and how I fit into this world and I rebut it. I live as fully as I can and show up and judge myself kindly to honor the 1000s of trans women who look like me.

My home is full of artwork by fat queer artists and freaks and weirdos. I write about feminist rage and the monstrous. I deal in faggotry.

And sometimes faggotry is just a cute children’s story about about how a Giant Egg can be a mermaid in a play.

And this is where the Gender Critical movement reveals itself to be full of shit.

Shaming me and others who had a masculinizing puberty for not looking like a woman while also trying to stop kids from transitioning at puberty to avoid my fate.

I think a lot about Leelah Alcorn’s suicide note.

How desperate to she was to avoid an androgen puberty — because she did not want to live the rest of her life looking like —

Me.

I don’t want to look like me either. I get it. It’s not celebrated.

Heck, I tried to lean in to it and tried to get cast as a villain just as the tide turned — trans women on TV have to be beautiful and respectable and villains shouldn’t be queer coded.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I’m trans. I don’t care if you call me a woman or what pronouns you use and for god sake don’t pity me.

I was socialized in a binary society just like everyone else. There is very little framework for me — we’re all just figuring it out together. I associate with femaleness.

But I also really don’t think that people ARE pitying me — I think a lot of people don’t care and I think others think I am pretty cool.

I think the GCers are so hung up and obsessed because for them actually being gender free is conceptual — like this LGB hero:

This book helped me a lot with understand my socialization. The “subconscious sex” — I don’t know why I had an association with girls.

I’ve been called a self loathing homosexual - but I was trans waaay before I knew I liked boys.