From the very beginning there were subtle (or not so subtle) red flags. Like the fact that it felt more like TRA’s were telling women, not asking, what was acceptable and what wasn’t. It wasn’ta two way conversation. It was very much “it’s my way or the highway.” or “Do as I say or I will label you as a bigot.” Looking back they were very much holding me emotionally hostage.
The hypocrisy of how trans racial was not accepted but transgender was. The outright refusal to acknowledge sex. But the biggest factor was meeting transpeople in person I think. A lot of the trans women seemed very angry and seemingly suspicious of me even when I was very highly accepting of them and enthusiastically accepted them as women. There was even a gut feeling that they looked down on me or were even jealous of me. The fact that the conversation always seemed to revolve around their sexuality. The common language corrections that even when done in a seemingly polite way that gradually started to get tiring . You know the language seemingly changed every month so even the most knowledgeable person would have trouble keeping up with it.
There was also the feeling that I just couldn’t shake around trans women when we had “girl talk”. It didn’t feel natural even though I really really tried to shake that. One transgirl would get in a very bad mood when there was discussion of periods, cramping, PMS or sanitary products.
I once took a picture of my bathroom being redecorated to show off the wall paper and the transgirl literally just walked out of the room. We asked if she was okay and she said she felt upset that she could see a box of tampons. That never sat right with me.
There is also the obvious fact that you can’t just say women in situations where it would be convenient when discussing female issues. It’s always the tiring mouth full phrases such as people who menstruate or people who give birth or people who breastfeed. It gets old you know?
The biggest life event that shifted my perspective was experiencing pregnancy, giving birth and breastfeeding. Not to mention how my midwives and la leche league using (inclusive language) during an already stressful time. Realizing desire being very very sick and almost dying three times I was more worried about checking and scanning my language and word choices than myself and my baby’s health.
It was after my daughters birth and experiencing very painful and stressful breastfeeding that I really started to review my perspective. First was the fact that my trans friends suddenly became very scarce. One said it was because they hate children and I talked about it too much. The other became passive aggressive and started making mean comments and seemed amused even giddy that I was so ill and almost died. They weren’t this way until I got pregnant. My female friend made a comment that they said our trans girl friends confessed they found my pregnancy difficult to hear about and even commented that I was insensitive to bring it up and should keep it to myself.
These instances made me think about how this all affected my daughter. I often wondered how I would feel if she decided to be a “he”. And while I wouldn’t hate that I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I would prefer that she didn’t. Not because I wouldn’t love her/him or that I couldn’t accept them or use the correct pronouns but because I would worry about my child’s health but mental and physical. About whether or not they felt that way for the right reasons and weather it would cut their life short or prevent them from living their life too it’s fullest.
Many of my trans friends seemed very self involved sadly. I cannot deny that everything seemed to be about them and their feelings. Yet I had my own traumas and health issues as well as everyone else yet their issues always seemed to be prioritized over everything else. They very rarely talked about anything other than their transness. It wasn’t just an experience for them or a lived reality but it was their entire being and personality it seemed, in a very all consuming unhealthy way.
I realized talking to them was exhausting even a chore. I think that’s when I realized even though I didn’t want to admit it that I was becoming gender critical. I didn’t want to be. I was scared of being gender critical. I was scared of being called a transphobe or bigot or being rejected or called out on social media. Even worse what if I was the only one who felt this way?
But slowly I started paying attention and noticing the little hints and subtle comments from friends and family. I would ask very carefully how they felt and slowly one by one others started confessing they felt the same but felt it was too risky to open up about it. It was a relief. They said they felt they couldn’t admit to disagreeing with it because many (mainly liberals) in the USA sees things in very black and white. (You are either with us or against us.) Rather than a very nuanced perspective that perhaps those that disagree with some things maybe don’t disagree with everything. For instance enmeshing gender with sex when they are very different experiences.