Why feminism sucked...

[beandelphiki]

(Eleven)

I've been thinking about feminism lately, and how I've related to feminism in my life. (I just thought I'd get a longer reflection in before school starts tomorrow.)

I think it's fairly typical for tranny guys to become feminists. The story I seem to hear the most is: tranny boy raised (or there are attempts to raise said tranny boy) as a feminine woman/girl person. Guy goes to college. Guy discovers feminism and lesbians together. (Note: this really only applies to t-boys who've come up in lesbian space. Otherwise, I don't know if there's a common back story.) Feminism seems to reflect feelings of frustration at the "girl" box. Lesbianism, if not due to actual attraction to women, affords masculinity. Feminism flourishes in lesbian space. Ta-da! Feminist tranny!

Or something like that.

But it never could have happened to me like that.



I wasn't unaware of feminism as a child. Possibly, I can blame my age for that. I'm young now; my parents were young and just out of college when they had me. (Actually, in the case of my mother, it was just out of college BECAUSE of me.) I don't think my parents had any real intention of trying to make me a feminist little girl at first. They certainly didn't attempt that with my sister. No, they picked on me because I was a tomboy.

I was an extremely masculine child. From some of the stories I've heard in ftm, maybe I was more masculine than a lot of tranny boys as a child, but I don't know. I'm just your textbook ftm, is all.

I think I was seven when I first told my parents, "I should have been born a boy." Of course they wanted to know why.

I was seven, for pete's sake; I couldn't possibly articulate that I felt male when everyone told me I was a girl. I didn't have words like "transsexual." The best I could do to explain it was to say, "Well, boys are better." I don't think I actually meant that boys are better than girls, although I might have. I don't think I was really any more naturally misogynistic than any seven-year old boy. I meant that I thought it would be better to be a boy...because being a girl felt wrong.

That's not the way it was taken, though. It made all my relatives nervous. Especially the female ones.

Soon, I had all of them responding to me, en masse, "No, honey, girls are better!" It was frustrating, to say the least.

My natural masculinity was trod on whenever it started to make anyone uncomfortable. No one had a problem with my tomboyishness...except when they did. For a while, I had to be dressed head to toe in pink. I kid you not. We still have pictures of me wearing pink T-shirts and pink sweatpants. I still have no idea what possible purpose this served beyond torturing me.

I couldn't buy Superman comics. If I had to get comics, I HAD to buy Supergirl. I recall the numerous futile arguments with my mother in the drugstore.

Whenever my parents bought my sister and I matching sets of anything, they were sure to give me the girlier version.

I wanted Ninja Turtles figurines for my birthday; they were sure to get me a Barbie. Complete with a car, a camping tent and a kitchen, to entice me to play with her.

And on and on and on. All in the name of "feminism." They used that word a lot.

In reality, this was a particularly warped version of "feminism." Refusing me boyish expression in favor of girlishness, which was "better." Pink and soft wasn't just okay, it was BETTER. Preferable to anything else.

This is feminism? I think not. Not that I knew any better.

When I was eleven, they ruined the Easter Bunny by making sure I got a feminist-minded book in my basket. It was a story about how a girl got on a football team - actually, there was nothing I can now object to there, but I wasn't listening anymore. I was fed up with this feminist crap. I think that was the point I rejected the concept of feminism as stifling and stupid as hell.

---

I recall when I hit puberty and my mother started to tell me anti-man jokes. You know the kind. Men can't do such-and-such because of such-and-such an inborn failing. Whenever my mom would tell those jokes to me, she'd wait for me to laugh, and I'd stand there looking at her thinking of murder. I hated her when she told those jokes, but I couldn't say why. It just felt like a rejection. But I couldn't tell her that because she'd think I was crazy, so I told those jokes, too.

After I came out, my mom told one of those jokes one night at the table. I burst out laughing, right on cue, and followed it up with an extra punch line. Then I sat there in shock, thinking, What am I SAYING? How can I laugh at that when I know I'm a boy, and that applies to me? Good god, I'm a trained dog!

---

I'm going through a process now. I'm not sure where I'm going to end up with this.

I highly doubt I'll become a strident feminist. Not when the word "feminism" still makes me shudder.

But I remember a point when I hated women. Loathed them, actually. I think there was a point when I fervently wished for all females to be wiped off the planet.

As I've - gradually - let loose of the idea that I am female, so has my hatred dissipated. My earlier self-loathing and how I relate to women are no longer wrapped up in each other. It feels like freedom to be rid of that.

It's gotten to the point where I think I can listen to feminists talk, and not cringe or want to leave the room. But whether or not I think there will ever be a point where I can consider calling myself a feminist - and not feel like I'm calling myself a dirty name - I don't know yet.

And I think I'm all written out at this point. Blah.