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Why I Don’t Care About Transgenderism
We’re told a lot of things today: that we should be woke, we should check our various privileges, women are all oppressed, etc. I don’t subscribe to any of them; I’m one of those people who says, oh YEAH? when I’m told I need to be or think a certain way, but the one I find most annoying is transgenderism.
I am a woman who believes firmly that there is a distinct biological difference between men and women, and that difference is rooted more firmly in the body than in the mind. The female physical experience is very different from that of the male experience. We bleed every month. We experience that unusual stress, positive or negative, that is the potentiality of pregnancy. We carry another human being within ourselves, and are both blessed and burdened with a special emotional bond as a result. We are physically weaker, in general; and even when individual men are weaker than we are, we know the vast majority are stronger. And yes, we do think differently, perhaps a hardwired difference or perhaps a difference created by those early uniquenesses. I make no judgment here because its origin is unimportant; only its existence is.
So it really pisses me off when a guy comes along and is convinced, utterly certain, that he is a woman on the inside. Because guess what? He isn’t. He can’t have the beginnings of an inkling of an idea what it is like: the misery and sometimes pride of a period, the knowledge that your body can cradle a baby, the combined ecstasy and fear when a boy pressures you for sex, the realization that the boys around you can perform physical feats that you likely never will, the sometimes revulsion and sometimes joy at a boy’s more aggressive play. He cannot know those things because he is born and experiences childhood as a boy.
But I can’t change that. I can’t make some dude not think he’s a chick. Nor would I try. It’s not my business or my responsibility.
However, I don’t have to CARE. I don’t have to modify my language to recognize his reality, his belief that he’s a girl, and I don’t have to share my bathroom without a fight.
I also don’t believe that alternate reality. Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose, change the name or the appearance however you like.
But for the sake of this piece, I’m going to pretend that his reality is REAL. That somehow, he is actually a girl trapped in a dude’s body. That his/her experience makes him/her special. Here is why I don’t have to care about that.
Special doesn’t mean important. Different doesn’t mean important.
Let me explain what I mean.
I’m short. Not super-short, but significantly shorter than average. I hate that I can’t reach the top two shelves at the grocery store without finding something to stand on (first furtively looking about for employees who might get upset). This does not mean that Walmart should be required to lop off the top two shelves so that I might be able to reach all the merchandise. And the fact that I have bad knees and, hence, trouble reaching the bottom shelf does not mean they should not use the bottom shelf for merchandise.
Short isn’t important.
I have bad vision. That does not mean that all street signs should be large print so that I can read them when I forget my glasses. Boo-hoo, me.
Nearsighted isn’t important.
I’m overweight. That does not mean that designers should create all their cute bohemian misses’ clothes in a size that works for me. That’s on me, too. I can make my own or shop online for my floral, lacy, bell-sleeved tops.
Fat isn’t important.
I’m mildly autistic. That does not mean parties have to have a special host to accommodate me. That does not mean I should be cushioned from the mean, crowded world that makes my blood pressure skyrocket and exhausts me when I move about in it. These are changes I can make to my life, though they are often limiting and frustrating.
Neuroatypical isn’t important.
The world does not have to accommodate itself to me.
And the world cannot accommodate itself to me. I have some serious issues with normal functioning in the world. I like to pretend I’m shapely, not fat, and that I have much longer legs than I do, and that I can swan gracefully through social interactions, and that if I just squint a little, I can see that sign just up ahead oh oops missed the damned intersection again.
But pretending does not make me a slender, tall social butterfly with 20/20 vision. Even extensive surgery and intensive therapy will never do that.
I will never be a tall black man with an aura of cool and a distinct talent at basketball.
I will never be an average-height woman of Italian descent with a Grace Kelly sense of style and a magnetic personality.
I will never be a butch gay genius femme intellectual with glittering knife-edge wit and a sprinkling of pop-culture philosophy books about contemporary glamour.
I will never be a brilliant black philosopher who journeyed from Black Pantherism to common-sense conservatism and is generous enough to share his insights with those who will listen.
And a person born a guy will never be a girl. Never.
So why are we trying so hard to pretend, in this one case, that what one tiny group of people wishes – and by tiny, I’m saying less than one percent – should be accommodated by the world at large? That we can be the cultural Fairy Godparents to this one minute group and, by discommoding and even harming enormous numbers of women and girls, create their dream space? What right have we, as a culture, to decide that the purported needs of these few trumps the proven needs of half the human population?
Because women need their space. Women need their sports. Women need to be treated as the very special set that they are, distinct from men, just as men have every right to their own space and specialness as well.
Women do not need men invading their most private and intimate spaces – public bathrooms, locker rooms, dressing rooms. We don’t even need men who think they are women – no matter how sincere his belief, it introduces discomfort to the much more numerous set of women.
We especially do not need men invading those spaces who clearly have no respect for the needs of biological women.
Hence, I simply don’t care about transgenderism. I don’t hate transgender people, not in any way, just as I don’t hate any group. I’m a strong believer in “you do you.” But I’m also a strong believer in mutual respect, and when people born male – who are therefore biologically different no matter how much plastic surgery and hormones are used to change their appearance – who insist on forcing their way into women’s private areas – who are determined to overpower and penetrate the things that are uniquely female – who demand women open themselves to their wishes, ignoring what women want for themselves – who aggressively and abusively invade womanhood, denouncing those who resist –
Well, you, my reader, are a thinking human being. I will let my language speak for itself.
Published in Culture
Since they have just demonstrated that they will not even stand with someone who merely tweets the present day version of “Free Tibet,” we need not speculate.
This is the problem with having an entirely relativistic view of morality everything is so fluid. One wonders when the trans movement will be jettisoned in favor of so ethnic or religious group with deep objections to it.
Kids have enough pressure on them already, with all the indoctrination about sex (and its deviancies) at earlier and earlier ages. Through in the notion you might not even be the boy or girl you think you are? It’s a wonder any kid grows up normal these days . . .
I may wait until the weekend. On weekends I identify as a lesbian of color named Louise. So I will have a female perspective to draw upon to fashion a response.
Just guessing but I think Lousie would say that if there is no such thing as intrinsic human nature and intrinsic sexuality then there is no tiresome natural law and all that moral baggage that comes with it. If there is no nature, no morals, then we are truly free unless, of course, some decide that the absence of morals means a blank check for the acquisition of power and use it to intrumentalize all those used-to-be-free beings but that would never ever happen.
Shoot. On the weekends I identify as a heterosexual male bigot named Boyd. Seems you and I are just never going to get together….
There once was a bigot named Boyd,
With a woman named Louise he toyed.
He started to flirt,
But he looked up her skirt.
And thus became rather annoyed.
LOLing out loud.
I tried to work “Nantucket” into it, but wisely decided against it . . .
Nan wanted to get out the bucket
But high out of reach someone stuck it.
So a ladder she brung,
Climbed up rung by rung.
When she grabbed the bail handle, Nan tuck et.
Hmm… I see what you mean. The result is rather pun-ishing.
Lol… the puns…
Everyone in my family but me was born in Nantucket. Sadly, I am not the man from Nantucket.
progressive oppose choice on everything except for:
everything else must be mandated by the state
1964 civil rights act doesn’t protect LGBTQ.
sex or gender is man or woman based on body parts when the law was passed in 1964.
But the Courts are shifting. The decision on homosexual marriage certainly implies that they would rule that homosexuals and perverts are a protected category. I don’t think even the current court can be trusted not to rule that way if anyone were to test it.
My stomach hurts . . .
They aren’t shifting, they’re rewriting the law from the bench – a no-no . . .
beautiful excellent polemic
I have a few friends that are foster parents. Our state has forced the entire fostering system to go through many hours of training to handle children with transgender needs, with regular repeat train. At the time they had none in the system. Though my friends noted that since the training the fostering system now has transgender workers in the system and has had to go through multiple “their case worker is Donny but when they show up next time they will be Donna and we all have too be cool with this or the full force of the state will slam us” episodes. The fostering system is looking forward to their new transitioning children with giddy anticipation.
There is one question I have about women and gay men or transgender people. Why do women seem to find gay men and transgenders so fascinating? If the most homely of men is added to a company / group the women will ignore him. They find out he is gay a significant portion of the women will buddy up with him. Find out he is transgender and it is girl talk time with make up tips, preening, etc. So what is the instant attraction?
That’s nothing. It won’t be long before transgender perverts will be adopting children. It will take several months for them to get training and filter through the system.
And then the radical progressive CPS caseworkers will recruit the transgenders for foster homes, just as they seem to favor the homosexuals.
I think they would prefer real, manly (heterosexual) men, but 1) masculine men are all potential rapists, and 2) modern women are taught not to find such men desirable.
They’re non-threatening, and they can dance.
Yeah, I think non-threatening is a thing. But, also, it’s false compassion. Women are big on compassion and the Left is particularly engaged in false compassion. So, I think this is mostly a lefty phenomenon. It’s possible to be compassionate to someone with such an affliction without indulging their disordered behaviors by approval. In fact, it’s necessary if you’re a Christian. Love cannot attain without truth.
Westy,
Bingo! Hold that thought I think we have a winner.
Regards,
Jim
Is it fascination, or absence of the same wariness or disgust straight men might have?
Straight men might worry that being around gay men or transwomen might mean getting hit on by someone they’d have to shut out. This can be an awkward prospect for several reasons. One of them being that most of us don’t like getting others’ hopes up, or flatly rejecting people unless we absolutely have to. Women find the prospect of rejecting prospective advances just as awkward as men do, perhaps even more so, since women are used to the more people-pleasing role (that women are more easily overpowered if they meet someone of the opposite sex who won’t take “no” for an answer is part of it, too, but hardly the only part).
A guy, who for whatever reason, manages to signal to women he’s interested in their company for reasons other than hitting on them, gets a different reaction from women than a guy who doesn’t. This includes homely men. A minority of the homely men I’ve met have had trouble not telegraphing a hangdog or chip-on-the-shoulder attitude along the lines of “Why am I not good enough for you, woman?” That sort of attitude makes anyone homelier. On the other hand, I’ve known sparkling, witty men who act at ease with themselves and are a pleasure to engage with who are, when I think about it, pretty homely.
Even absent sexual tension, appearance doesn’t go unnoticed, but it’s not the only quality to notice.
A lot of women are insecure about their appearance, feeling it has unfeminine aspects they should be better at minimizing. A drag queen who is fairly successful at pulling off a naturalistic feminine look (many aren’t, and a fair number don’t even seem to want to be), is demonstrating a desirable skill in minimizing unfeminine features that many women worry they have.
I don’t have much respect for a man who is “worried” that they might get “hit on” by a pervert.
There are enough reasons for disgust and ostraciscm without being “afraid.”
Men are not valued for their appearance, but for their power.
Women are valued for their appearance.
Of course, there are other reasons to be valued as well, but those are the most base reasons.
OK, Mr Manly Man, you have duly signaled your manliness.
I didn’t say I was powerful. I said women value men for their power.
We are all savage monkeys deep down.
Given how everything else is going. Probably only a matter of time on these as well.