CW: Transphobia/ flammable opinions… don't read if you're not willing to put yourself on my place and understand my mind.
To begin I would like to take a look at the year 2016 and think about the past on my life, still… there's times in which I just want to look back at the time I was 16 and meditate a bit about that era on my life… this journal is pretty much a bunch of words I can write down to reassure myself that… I can finally make peace with those bad experiences with certain kinds of people from 2016 to 2020.
For those who don't know, I come from an era in which nearly everyone on the internet was resilient as a cinder block, we could say a thousand insults, slurs... get creative on saying how you had intimate business with someone's mom while playing a FPS game as you had an honorable last knife fight… as well you went to 4chan 8chan to browse the daily madness or porn, nobody would call you a coomer or an incel since people just didn't give a shit at the time. And… you could literally tell someone to do a flip on a highway bridge and… they would instead laugh at you like you would with that friendly assholeish friend, hell! Instead of making callout posts people would head to server administrators, police… or whoever was needed instead of making callout posts to gather people for the circus they had just assembled. I come from a more civilized and polite era than the one I find myself upon now so… I naturally expect someone to try and lynch me publicly lighting my own fuse so I end up on the news after blowing up on the world. Whatever happens at this point is up to whoever reads these mixed thoughts of mine.
What has happened has happened, and there's no turning back let alone reparations or compensations that help make up for what has happened, racism in the 50s can't be erased through time travel, let alone slavery or ww1 can be prevented. I find myself now in a perfect state of peace of mind after doing some gaming and meditating afterwards, during my self impossed meditation session I thought about my experiences with trans people, taking a look back at that pre-teen myself saying dumb things on the internet and expecting to be politely corrected or called out?
Let's just say that I was in at an era's change and instead of being told -”no, this is wrong… you effed up, just apologize and let's move on”- I instead got a pack of hounds after my skin as soon I said something that was remotely offensive for the changing era, it certainly resulted in some drama which certainly I look forward to put my own definitive end to it specially after hearing some of my friends willing to politely hear me out and understand my wrongful words got mauled by those paper hounds and publicly shunned from social life.
So, trans people… people born like A but with a mind of B right? I wasn't well aware of the concept on that time and instead of being politely corrected and informed about it I got mauled by a group of paper people who would cry wolf if they got my same treatment. It didn't help in the slightest that before this whole ordeal I already had some bad experiences with trans people that literally became walking tantrums as soon I mistook pronouns a couple times unintentionally, thus resulting in me marking any trans individual as mentally unhinged, naturally hostile and angry at everyone and everything, and being able to be hurt by a falling leaf impacting on their heads. As soon I saw the trans I flag I knew better not to interact with such individuals knowing how my interactions usually went.
However the whole ordeal doesn't end up here since the rabbit hole on my own trauma if it can be called that… moving onto my first job with an actual contract, I was 18 at the time working in a car workshop from 5 to 9 and working with some high end cars as Bmws, Porsches… I genuinely enjoyed ripping my hairs off at these complicated systems or make simple oil changes or tire balances. Then this day arrives in which a new addition came to the mechanics team, it was a young transgender man which I will politely call “Harry”, he was this thin bodied 18 year old rookie that altough he looked femenine in some aspects he still managed to look like a tomboy/emo without all of the edgy pen drawn suicidal cuts all over their wrists.
When this had happened, I was pretty much in denial because now I was literally facing the problem that left a mark on me, I had people crucify me over a pronoun mistake, those same people as well lie and crucify my friends over a damn mistake that doesn't physically injure them or prevents from moving on with their lives… One simple mistake and I knew that I wouldn't be able to prevent that fuse from lighting up the T-bomb, I spoke to my boss and asked to be moved to the storage area not to deal with the problem of the rookie myself. I even went on to speak about my experiences and my willingess not to confront the problem. Bastard simply shoved me in and said I would now be watching over him, thinking that the problem would easily work itself out in a couple days.
From that day I swore that if Harry threw a tantrum over the smallest of my pronoun mistakes I would ensure that they would get a spanner to the face, and while they picked up their knocked out tooth from the ground they would learn in a harsh manner to politely correct the mistakes of someone instead of mauling them for their own twisted enjoyment of “justice”
I already had the reference experience to go by, and I knew better to stand my ground rather than take steps back and be bullied… So, first days came by and I was trying to try and “program” my brain to see a female bodied individual as a male even if the physical aspect suggested me otherwise, working the tire machines while trying to keep a steady pace for me was already stressful enough, let alone ensuring that Harry remained on schedule and followed the procedures of both maintenance and safety with machines and cars, then… pressured by the nerve I end up making a mistake as I spoke to another coworker about hanging out at the bar for lunch.
Body tensed up, tool on my right hand grasped tight and ready to be swung towards their face with all of that pent up tension and rage -”he” Harry said calmly as I turned around and he looked at my tense face, deciding to just move on I just kept working without saying something else the remaining time of my shift. But… I end up counting 17 mistakes and 17 polite corrections that ensued, Harry frequently asked me why I had that tense face whenever looking at him after a simple pronoun mistake. But… knowing I would open a can of worms I would dismiss and tell him to get back to work instead.
One day he ends up confronting me on the last mistake -”what's wrong? Are you alright?”- he was always curious about why I tensed up like a raging bull as soon I made a pronoun mistake, tired and fed up of expecting an explosion and yet… be greeted by a hand on the shoulder and a look in the eyes I ended up going off myself harder than the Hiroshima nuke.
-”I'm fucking tense because as soon I fuck up your damn pronouns I expect you to explode like the walking problems you are and you haven't gone off yet! Call me a transphobic piece of shit and threathen to beat me up! I know you want to!”- I say, Harry is left shocked not knowing how to act, I walk off with my boss cussing out at me and got told to take a day off work, so I expent the next day in bed feeling nauseous about my job and as well conflicted because I expected to knock out Harry's teeth into the ground and enjoy the sight after receiving a single insult from him… and yet I dropped the tool and walked away to the changing rooms for a reason I can't figure out even to this day.
Next thing I know is that he called in sick the following day and showed up at my apartment with takeout even knowing the risks of getting bludgeoned on the face with whatever I held on my hands. Harry simply asked me to know what had happened and why I ended blowing up like that, safe to say that Harry in the end only wanted to know why I tensed up nervous as soon I made a harmless mistake, even if I refuse he managed to make me open… certainly persistent.
After hearing me out, he simply shrugged and denied with his head telling me he's faced similar things before and that people like Social Justice Warriors getting offended in behalf of people like them usually only worsen their day to day life perpetuating wrongful views about them. Harry simply introduced himself to me as that 18 year old guy that studied on the morning, worked in the afternoon and hung out with friends during the weekends, all except for that gender identity conflict within himself, he was conflicted about his gender but he wasn't a ticking time bomb let alone a perpetual victim that couldn't stand up for himself in any way except for sticking in a group.
Time passes and I slowly get to know him better just as he gets to know me better, problem he had? Problem I solved? Problem I had? Problem he solved… sadly people like Harry is one of the few positive experiences I had with forgiving trans individuals and even though I started to have a few more with some other on my local furry group… I still see on my eyes that bomb with a short fuse, waiting to light itself up with the slightest of sparks. It doesn't matter how much positive experiences I had… I'm always tense around anyone who flies the damn trans flag, I can speak to them, don't make mistakes anymore… but you know what I can't still do? I can't be calm knowing that I'm walking the pronoun tightrope, the slightest of mistakes will equal a 50/50 chance of a catastrophic explosion… it's far fucking worse than my fear of heights… even if I have phobia to possums I would accept being shoved inside a locked metal coffin full of possums and then thrown into the sea depths for an unknown amount of time.
Is this phobia even? Some trans friends I spoke with told me that this is just a minor case of trauma, that it's nothing to make a big deal about, that with time it'll be gone. I might have some transgender people watching or I might be watching them myself, All I can notice is that when I have to face the source of my trauma I grow tense like whoever defuses a bomb, that I can act dry and cold towards them even or sometimes unresponsive at times.
I have accepted this part of myself in the end after so much meditation, just like my phobia to possums or my fear of heights, it will always be there… what has happened has happened and there's no fixing it or making up to it, bad experiences, people hounding me instead of informing and correcting me ended up shaping me into this, only a few people made a difference in easing that trauma within me, I can say I learned to live with that unhealthy tension which I hope doesn't end taking me out…
the question for me still stands… is this transphobia? Or is it just bad experiences which ended translating themselves into trauma? I'm just highly confused at this point and just wish to stop living with this unhealthy tension.
Comments disabled… notes enabled and my shouts will be kept watch over so… lynch me or simply put a hand over my shoulder and look at me on the eyes calmly.