song against sex

On how it sucks to feel trapped in your own body, especially when even your friends don’t understand.
November 15, 2010, 2:21 am
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Here’s an excerpt of a chat with a friend this evening. (We were both feeling angsty and explaining why.)

R: why angsty?
Me: mainly because some of my friends have been posting before/after photos of taking T. :|
R: T?
Me: er, hormones.
R: testosterone?
Me: er, yes.
R: as in recreationally?
R: or for sex change?
Me: noooooooo.
Me: friends who are going to transition or are thinking about it.
R: ah
Me: like, such as.

R: wow.
R: why are your transitioning friends causing you angst?
Me: because i have always wanted boy hips.
R: wanting male hips is not a solid reason to take T
R: it can cause problems with things
R: and also will likely amplify your sex drive times a billion
Me: i wasn’t asking for advice, and i’m not taking T, and i don’t WANT to take T, and i’m not trans but i do experience dysphoria. also, i fucking HAVE no sex drive.
R: sorry, i’m not meaning to be all like forewarning ish or anything
R: i just care, ykno?
R: and one of the side effects of T is increase/development of sex drive, as one of the primary causes of sex drive is testosterone levels.
Me: i sometimes think that bodies suck.

I can’t think about this too long or I’ll get upset, and there are no yadas here to take me out drinking.


Why do /all/ of my gender issues revolve around what’s in my bra?!
November 13, 2010, 3:03 am
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[Or at least, I’d estimate, 90% of them.]

Tonight I went glow bowling with my family and a huge horde of teenagers in skate clothes and neon sunglasses (aka my youngest brother’s birthday party).  I loooooooooooooooove blacklight. I want it in my future!house. In the living room. And I want crazy skating rink carpet in there. BUT I DIGRESS.

The fun thing about glow bowling, of course, is all the glowing going on. My white “Turn off your TV and read” button was glowing like a lighthouse. I LOVE IT. A few minutes after arriving, I notice you can kind of see my makeshift binder glowing through my blue shirt. Eh, who cares? Not meeee. I was there to have fun, and have fun I did. I was especially bad at bowling tonight, due to some recent wrist issues (not to say that I’m any good when my wrists are healthy). I laughed a lot and we high-fived each other every time one of us got a strike.

About halfway through the night, I turned around to find a girl, one of the party guests, standing by me, leaning in with her face literally two inches away from mine. (Personal space, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.) She laughed at my obvious discomfort and then began her speech. “Next time you go glow bowling, don’t wear a white sports bra,” she said. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to embarrass you; I just think it’s hilarious.” (Commence hysterical giggling.)

What I wanted to say is quite different from what I actually said. I considered making a snappy remark, perhaps asking her why she wasn’t confronting another guest three feet away whose bra was also glowing through her shirt, or inquiring as to why sports bras are apparently so much funnier than..regular bras (seriously, what are they called), or sweetly informing her that when she turned around, I could see her bra through two shirts. I wanted to point out that my sister’s pink shirt was glowing brighter than my white bra, so good luck with that. I wanted to ask her why she felt like it was her place, as a sixteen-year-old, to tell me (an adult, a casual acquaintance, a chauffeur to and from bowling, and one of her hosts for the night) what I can and can’t wear. I wanted to tell her how many fucks I didn’t give, and I wanted to tell her that it’s a makeshift binder, not a sports bra, and that it was none of her business in the first place.

Instead, I just said that I didn’t know what she was talking about; I wasn’t embarrassed in the least, and I plain old didn’t care. At least I didn’t cause a scene?