@IAmNotAClownfish
The non-binary stuff isn't 100 miles away from gender-critical is it?
It's just with NB you get the whole ready-made rainbow friends and glitter family cheering you on and with gender critical you get rape and murder threats.
The difference is age.
Under 30, non-binary. 30-35 (so within the realms of being potentially fuckable with a bit of coercion), a bit of a grey area, probably best left alone when there are more easily manipulated younger ones. Over 35, clearly transphobic and must be strapped to the ducking stool.
What some people refuse to recognise, as they're obviously unable to comprehend of anybody over the age of potential fuckability having experienced the same or similar, is that many of us already know exactly what it feels like to not recognise a gender role as applying to us.
For fuck's sake, I grew up being told I was obviously a boy in the wrong body by my own mother because I wasn't like the girls in school. And puberty hitting meant all the things I loved or was comfortable with stopped because it 'was time for you to be a girl now'. Had somebody got in my ear at the age where I couldn't understand why I wasn't allowed a BMX, a computer, jeans, trainers, short hair, to go to superhero and action movies, was told I didn't want to become strong because having muscles meant that I'd look like a man, couldn't have my hair short, couldn't become a pilot but could become a secretary in the RAF and said there was a way that I could do all those things, get taller, get stronger AND I'd never have to worry about being forcibly groped by boys or pestered by men, wouldn't be hit by a partner for wanting to do an engineering degree because that was Trying To Be A Man which would humiliate him or have the itching of an off the rack bra or collapsed on the toilet floor sweating and puking from period pains - I'd have taken it. And my mother would have given permission, as I was clearly a total failure at Being a Girl and always had been.
I was never a boy. Wouldn't have described myself as a girl, though. Girls were crap. I'm not entirely comfortable about being described as a woman because that carries a hell of a lot of obligations in the eyes of others. But I know that's what I am. A woman. An adult female. One who hates shopping, still gets ridiculously excited about superhero movies. Who plays bass (although no bands want an old, fat woman playing with them when they can have an old, fat man doing it and a pretty 22 year old with her tits out singing), sings Tenor because she's good at it, can get a knackered old sound desk working with a few quick patches and a roll of gaffer tape, would rather boil my own eyeballs than sit through an episode of reality TV (unless it's The Running Man) or EastEnders, does the plumbing, electricals and flat pack assembly because she's better at it than her DP, taught him how to lift weights and can relocate a shoulder, wrist, finger or kneecap in an instant because she's had them so many times she's lost count.
The problem is that we do know. We know exactly what it's like. And the idea that we do know and disagree completely with traumatic surgery, taking drugs and fucking people we don't want to, because it's apparently abusive not to give them what they want at the cost of our own agency and putting ourselves at risk of yet more sodding sexual abuse and assault - well, that's what makes us so threatening. We could put an end to the supply of vulnerable younger people falling for their manipulation, coercion and both sexual and physical violence.
Sometimes I think I should have stuck with the original plan aged 10 (before I was told that girls don't do science subjects or stay on in Education, they do Business Studies and leave school at 16 to get a job typing at the Gas Board) of fucking off to become a vet and living in a place where I spent all my time around animals, not people. Animals are great, they know your sex but don't care about the rest as long as they get their food provided and you don't try to eat them or stick their heads on an office wall somewhere, they're happy. People, though - far harder work.