~Without gender roles, sexual reassignment surgery wouldn’t exist. There would be no body dissonance because self and genitalia would be independent of each other in practice. Thus, transgendered/transexual people reinforce the gender binary that harms women~
This is the simplest statement that I’ve found that some people reiterate, over and over, to point out in their opinion, why reassignment surgery for myself and other transgendered/transexual people is bad.
I beg to differ. I don’t believe gender roles are the same thing as a physical manifestation of a gender category, and neither do any of the other transgendered/transexuals ect and so forth in whatever label, if any, they use for themselves that I’ve talked with or read. There may very well be some, but I’ve yet to find them.
This might shock some people.
So hold tightly to your chairs, now.
Get a good grip!
I don’t care if I wear a skirt or jeans.
Shock!
Disbelief!
Horror!
They’re both comfy, and in hot weather a broom skirt is preferred for me. What I absolutely dispise is the idea that if I wear a skirt, then that makes me a woman. Clothing doesn’t make the person. It gives you a perception of what the person might or might not be in your individual world view but it doesn’t make a damn thing.
So. What does wearing a skirt make me.
You know what it makes me?
Lean close.
Closer.
Clossseeeerrrr……..
It makes me a human being wearing a peice of often colorful, shoddily stitched fabric made to cover the bottom half of my torso and some or all of my legs!
Oh, you’re so smart.
I bet you got that one right off the bat, too.
Incidentally, I’d have to theorize (bear with me now!) that the human body (chromosomes as an example) doesn’t r ‘male’ or ‘female’ either. At least, not as an absolute indicator. There’s also intersex people I notice, though, that they don’t come up in the majority of feminist discourse I read. Their experiences aren’t even mentioned, or if they are, it’s vaguely, as an afterthought.
Personally, I completely and utterly loath being an afterthought.
What about you?
And I disagree with surgery on intersexed infants. It’s their body, not their parents’ body, or their peers. Leave ‘em the hell alone, already. How would you like what’s in between your legs shortened or changed, with a large loss of sensation from nerve endings because a possible future mate might not approve? No? You don’t like that thought?
Didn’t fucking think so.
Then there are feelings like mine, which are dismissed as “Delusions of Possible Power and Granduer” if the transition is constructed female to male, and ‘Unsurpers of Rightful Feminine Discourse and Mysticism” if the transition is constructed male to female. And who gave you absolute power? The gender assignment faerie?
Pshaw. Faeries of that particular type don’t exist.
And for those of you who would disagree with me, don’t tell me your gender isn’t at least as constructed as mine is.
At Least.
As Constructed
As Mine.
I see a few of you that espouse these wonderful thoughts against some socialized gender norms
Skirts!
Lipstick!
Bathroom signs!
Ties!
Tuxedos!
that, horror of horrors! I disagree with too! lobbying for gender nuetral bathrooms, insisting your gender is as constructed as mine. You can’t have it both ways. It’s either oppressing when we all do it, or none of us do it. You don’t get to pick and choose who has it worse, and who is making it worse for all. Life doesn’t work that way, as you might have noticed. Then again, you might not’ve.
So!
We’ve established that a piece of cloth or, heaven forfend, a tube of lipstick doesn’t, indeed, crush a human being under it’s metaphorical feet. At least, I do hope that’s the impression you’ve gotten. What someone associates with the idea of lipsticks and ties, tuxedos and skirts is another situation entirely. It’s the associations people have regarding one’s gender performance that can be dangerous, not the choices themselves.
But it should be pretty obvious, at this point, that little faeries aren’t holding me hostage with neon pink cumberbands demanding my resignation as a mascera written apology for the people.
Since we’ve covered Fabric and Heels, lets go on to Body and Belief.
This should be short.
Some people might even recognize this.
Ooooooh, I’m all a flutter! Positively giddy, butterflies in m’stomach, the works!
“Clears Throat”
My Body, My Choice!
Not your body, and it sure as hell ain’t your choice what I do with it. And yes, I do think transition should be covered under insurance. My basis falls under this for two reasons. The first involves the Hypocratic oath that’s supposed to be taken seriously by doctors everywhere, but that I strongly suspect many have been shitting on and flushing down their own personal comodes of the mind. It is “First, Do No Harm.”
Transition doesn’t harm anyone, and it doesn’t impugn on another’s freedom of choice.
I’m not fond of the bits of flesh currently occupying my chest, and getting rid of them would harm exactly no one. I’m also for reconstructive plastic surgery covered by healthcare, because I happen to have experience in that, too, from three benign tumors that covered the majority of the left side of my face when I was born, including blocking that eye. Sometimes that’s no more a ‘cosmetic’ choice than skin grafting. I’m not, incidentally, advocating medical coverage for various piercings and tattoos, as the piercings can be taken out and the tattoos removed – since most things can be gotten rid of or removed with (generally) the same ease as that made them they needn’t be covered. You cannot add “le press on tit’s” as I read one asshole describe mtf surgery with hormones and you cannot take them off when you feel like it. There is no comparison there.
However, if, say, someone wanted to cut off their healthy appendages, like their legs or their arms, I’d…well, I want to say “No”, very badly.
“But Worm! That’s violating their choice!”
Well, yes and no. Yes because it is their body but no because that would have the person who wanted to get rid of healthy limbs (an example) be dependable on other people for necessities that they could conceivably still do for themself before the surgery they wanted takes place (depending on what they were aiming for). Oddly enough I find I still dislike the concept but don’t care so as long as after a person recieves what they want that they can conceivably get by without snatching hard-to-find resources. I don’t see extended choices opening up but I’d see a hell of a lot of doors closing, although quite a bit of that’s due to society, resources and care are limited. I also think that it’s often (but perhaps not always) mocking the people with disabilities, and we don’t need to be mocked any more for that thank you very much. It’s insulting, the way I read a lot of people’s experiences, it seems like, I dunno, that the physical accoutrements and how people react to them are what’s focused on, at least in the fiction. I’m also curious as to why no one seems to want an invisible disability, one that isn’t neccessarily noticed off-the-bat as differing from the norm. Like when I missed god knows how many classes of Reading when I graduated to middle school, because despite the room being perhaps thirty-five, fourty feet away from the History room I was headed from the only times I was able to find it in the beginning was by following someone, and that was rather hard because following colored clothing isn’t the most reliable way to get somewhere. Was too embarrassed to ask anyone where it was, because after a week and a half or so you’re supposed to know where your classes are. Was the stupidest thing, really. Ended up spending those hours hiding in the bathroom on the days I didn’t manage to follow someone so I wouldn’t get caught being in the hall and have to admit I didn’t know where the fuck the room was. Managed to follow someone to the wrong room, once, too, at the very beginning, found out when the teacher came looking for me. Eventually managed to figure out where t’was by elimination – if I went past the English room I’d gone to far, and what jump started that must-find-room-NOW was a large dose of fear when some kid I don’t remember the name of informed me that the Reading teacher kept wondering why I ’skipped’. Teacher was nice enough not to say anything when I got to coming regularly, though, he was a quiet one. Class mainly consisted of silent reading and the filling of vocab notebooks. But anyway, I never hear of anyone wanting to experience those kinds of things, although whether that could be attributed to a learning disability or that pdd-nos that the psychotherapist suggest, who knows. But anyway, it always seems like what people want would be something visible to someone else, something easily identified. I don’t see any of them pining for a mental disorder, either, or, say, bad vision without it getting recognized by others. Fer instance, I had some greedy person tell me I should ride my bike in the road so she could have more room to walk. It was also one ~hell~ of a large sidewalk, it being downtown and new, not like she was getting crowded out. She just assumed I can accurately judge distance well enough to navigate through a busy downtown with fast, inconsiderate cars and narrow streets, which, unfortunately, I can’t. Not very well, at any rate, especially when the cars park and pull out on the side of that road. Or the people at convenience stores or fast food restaurants when they ask your order, and you ask if they have —-, since all the menus are above the registers on the back wall, and I generally can’t read those, either. Even with my glasses, and yes, the prescription is updated. The rude looks I’ve received are appalling, not to mention the “It’s up there” with redundant, vague finger pointing. Yes, yes, you dim bulbs; I know it’s up there; the point is I can’t see it. It’s really not that hard a concept to grasp.
….And I was so close to not ranting, too. Ah well.
-Edited for clarity as I thought it rude not to explain vague reasonings.
