Tag: lgbt

masks

the masks we wear, they wear us out

from when I was a straightish man
to yes, a “sportsman,” I once deigned
and then the mask at once became
a gayish, 19 years of age
sweet Jupiter was wooed I’m sure
the cleverest boy, with boyfriends too
to married father, divorced rage
and this transgender thing they say
I’ve always been quicksilver
darting Mercury through the haze
and so a traveler wearing masks
becomes the masks he at once gazed

and then the deepness tackled out
to bring the truth with Hades’ clout
I’m won because I’m just so sure
Masks are all and nothing more

The Broken Record of Human Rights Violations in Modern Society

Jewish people were oppressed for centuries, kept from education and wealth through laws which forbade their integration into society. Then when they were given rights equal to white society in the 19th century, white people slandered them all as gross, ignorant, lustful, and unable to keep up with the power holders of the society.
 
Black people in the United States were enslaved and oppressed for centuries, kept from education and wealth through laws which forbade their integration into society. Then when they were given rights equal to white society, white people slandered them all as gross, ignorant, lustful, and unable to keep up with the power holders of the society.
 
Gay people were oppressed for centuries, kept from education and wealth through laws which forbade their integration into society. Then when they were given rights equal to straight society, straight people slandered them all as gross, ignorant, lustful, and unable to keep up with the power holders of the society.
 
Trans people were oppressed for centuries, kept from education and wealth through laws which forbade their integration into society. Then when they were given rights equal to cis society, cis people slandered them all as gross, ignorant, lustful, and unable to keep up with the power holders of the society.
 
The dominant group in our societies seems to always continually trip up small minorities of people and then exclaim “why do you have all of those bruises?! You must be subhuman!” Is the problem outright deception or an incredibly short memory? Or do the powerful elite need someone to point to as they hide all of their Scrooge McDuck gold out of sight? I would wager on a combination of the three.

My struggle as a beat up and sick trans woman with few answers in America. I just want to learn something better

I carry so much weight. I pay child support for two children I haven’t seen in six years. It takes up half of my meager salary. I have PTSD from years of alienation. I have social anxiety and sensitivity to noises that can be debilitating. I am transgender, and, well, I have to be a woman in America. I have debt. I have fibromyalgia and fatigue that stab me all day long with weird pains in my neck and back. I have pain in my heart so deep that I lock it up so no one can see it because I’m terrified that if I show my hurt and vulnerability I won’t be able to just keep crawling forward. I’m terrified that if I open my heart, I will fall apart. If I feel, I will fall and never get up. I can’t do this on my own, and I can’t just dump it on other people too. I don’t know how to manage my life. I stagger around in life in a repeating cycle of trying to be this strong woman so this system will give me scraps. I use drugs, alcohol, and medications to propel myself forward in a stupor, carefully managing a cadre of pills upon pills that works for a while and then ultimately ends in total defeat.

I’m afraid to share. Inside I hate my vulnerability. It is the enemy. I hate it in others too because of this. I go to war against myself, and scream at myself inside to get it together or else. I tried killing myself, and death terrified me even more than living. I want to succeed. I want to live. I want to be open. But I don’t know how. My muscles and soul is tired. How do you live when you’ve been whipped and are still whipped daily? I alternate between hating that system and realizing that I’m just internalizing the system’s poison by doing so. The balance is so tight.

I know I’ve done good things with my life, but I’m tired. I’m most likely going to go back into residential treatment because I just don’t know how I’m going to manage my life. If I get a new job am I going to be able to do that without slowly collapsing from the weight? I know I have to succeed and survive. But I’m terrified of being fooled by my brain into more toxic behavior patterns. Depression upon anxiety upon pain upon manipulation upon fear upon doubt upon loss.

I made the decision seven years ago to be more honest with my gender, and that helped, but I’m very poor at certain things. I’ll last for a while and then explode. It was exactly two years ago that I decided to go into residential treatment the last time, and here I am again. Oh well, if that’s what I have to do, then that’s what I have to do. I’m not really super good at sharing my feelings. I’m good at talking, and I usually just talk over my feelings. But insightful people see through that.

I have fear and pain so deep that I’m locked up. So I just leech off of loved ones until they grow resentful. I have to escape this cycle, but right now I don’t know how I can do it. Right now, all I know is that I’m hurting people around me and hurting myself. Addiction is a scourge. I don’t even want to admit I’m an addict because I fear that everyone will run away screaming. How do I do this? I suppose just by getting through today.

The Parable of the Exploded Volcano

I struggle a lot with negative self-perception. My life has kind of exploded repeatedly due to my own fiery nature. But to put it more honestly, it was self-protection that created the problem in the first place. I had to live in fear because I didn’t want to get murdered or completely rejected from society. It sounds over the top, but growing up with a strange gender is still pretty much like living under Jim Crow. I’m not a huge fan of comparing states of suffering, but it was a pretty heavy existence. There is a singular difference between racial and gender issues though. You can’t hide skin color, but you can hide gender, and I hid it mightily. I used the magical power of repression®! Stuff it down inside!

But in psychology it’s the opposite of physics: what goes down must come up, and I blew up like Mt. Saint Helens, all of my repressed shit since about the age of 5 rained down on those around me. It was like holding my breath for two decades, and I was literally about to die from it. I really didn’t know how to process being an exploded volcano. A good number of people thought I must be insane and just waited for me to put the top back on the caldera and apologize. But as you can guess that didn’t happen.

Being an exploded volcano has its benefits: you get to see inside yourself more clearly. When you see all of the things you ran away from and suppressed spewing out all around you, as long as you don’t go totally insane, you can learn a lot about yourself. I feel more self-aware than the average person. This isn’t to say I’m alone in this respect. I’ve surrounded myself with more self-aware people in recent years. My exploded volcano peer group.

Now I’m mightily just trying to heal. I know where I need to go. I’ve found a deep power within myself that I couldn’t ignore. The thing that I was trying to suppress all those years just happens to be my divine feminine nature. I used my overactive mind to heap mounds of obfuscating dirt on top of those pesky feminine emotions and intuitions, but the mind is not as powerful as it professes to be at killing the heart. And really I’m no different than everyone born male; all people including all men have a divine feminine sensitivity. They are taught to bury it deeply when young, and some of them keep it buried, while slowly turning into a sad shell of a person. But every now and again that volcano starts to rumble, and they’re filled with an amorphous fear that they don’t really understand but that petrifies them.

Life is more complicated and less complicated since my eruption. I had to relearn a ton of different things from a heart-centered perspective, and now I’m more visible to the haters, so I had to get used to that. But I know now that fear is the real enemy. And I know now that I am enough, blown up bits and all. I can take a deep breath and rest in the goddess knowing that I’m not fighting it anymore.

Happy exploding friends. 🌞

Me Too

I haven’t really felt like posting this meme, because I didn’t grow up being socialized around cisgender women, so I suppose I have felt slightly alienated from it, but my experience with toxic masculinity is probably even more severe than most.

I grew up looking like a “normal” male child, and yet my psychology and emotional makeup were far closer to that of the average young girl. I was sensitive, loved art and music especially, always tried to dress expressively, and had many other qualities that didn’t fit in with the increasingly narrow definitions of masculinity indicative of late-stage patriarchy. And then of course I was attracted to the same gender, but that didn’t come until I started puberty, and by that time  masculinity had scarred my back repeatedly with its whiplashes.

Unlike the girls in the other lines, I was undercover: embedded amongst the enemy. From the first grade, I was bullied for being different. I didn’t really understand why I was bullied and singled out until much later, but now I see it. I was a girl that couldn’t retreat into a group of other girls. I was alone and chained to the boys, and they knew it. Men in America are conditioned to hate and deride femininity wherever they see it. Of course not all men follow these orders, but enough do to create deep scars in anyone who dares to be born with a feminine or yin psychological composition.

I’ve never been sexually assaulted even though there were predators in the gay male community too who took advantage of my fragile state when I was underage and crossed boundaries. But I was psychologically assaulted for my gender, and this did plenty of damage. It took me until I was 30 to finally say enough is enough and throw those bullies and demons out of my consciousness and resurrect that girl that I had hidden deep in the recesses of my consciousness around the age of 6. I still have lots and lots of rehabilitation to do because of the foul aggressions of “modern” American masculinity, but I’m on the track.

The reason that transgender women are targeted and attacked at a sickeningly high level is because men are fighting a proxy battle in the wider war against women in general. People like me have dared to say that transitioning to live as a woman is not a “downgrade” as they would have everyone believe. Soldiers often treat traitors worse than they treat the enemy, and I am proudly both. This primitive charade needs to end, and rest assured that it is ending. Women have made enormous advances economically and politically in the last one hundred years, and the momentum is not slowing. I just pray to the goddess that we can join hands as one peaceful people soon and respect all gender manifestations as beautiful and divine.

A Few Words

God gave you a left hand and a right hand. On one side there are things that happen to you and you’re the victim or receptive or yin. On the other side, you are the actor, the thinker, the yang. You can’t reduce it to one. It’s both, well at least both. I’m not that smart enough to know how many hands reality has. But you can’t say that you’re a total victim, and you can’t say that you’re a total egotistical controller. We’re all both in varying degrees. So can we please meet in the center? Can we have a mosh pit of love and understanding. I know that some people are “unrelatable” but people change. I used to be a frothing right winger. I grew up. Let’s all stop being total know-it-alls that are completely convinced that the other side is wrong. Certainty is poison. There is no certainty in a complicated system of oppositional actors. Humility, Please?!
By the way, WTF is wrong with you Donald Trump. I’m talking to you as one of those horrible trannies that you want to cleanse out of the military. (BTW, only we can say tranny. Don’t fucking say it if you’re not a tranny.) Grow the fuck up motherfucker! Simmer down my brother. You’re not fucking Christ. Lord. The amount of intellectual certainty in this budding Aquarian Age is just too much. Yeah, we kind of know things because of science, but science is wrong every day.
OK I feel better. It’s such a fucking disaster. Center. Breath. Ground. Know that you’re a dumb ass ape. Life is work.
I’m drunk, but hey, I can write a few words.

Trying to get in shape in sunny Portland while trans can be a workout in itself

I thought about joining a gym yesterday in Portland. I walked into a nice one in the center part of town, and I talked to the gym dude about the rates and the such. Then I asked what their transgender policy is because “I transitioned many years ago, and I identify as a woman.”

“Well, this is a family owned gym, and you would have to use the facilities with which you were born…”

We looked at each other knowingly.

“OK, that’s all I need to know!” And I left with a smirk on my face.

“Family owned” Why do they have to assert this notional ‘family’ as a defense against transgender inclusion? I’m not going to parade around naked while yelling various intersectional feminist slogans. And if I go into the men’s locker room, with my transitioned body, and walk around naked, breasts akimbo while I do my eyeliner, is this going to be the ideal situation?

No, there is no place at the inn I’m afraid. I’ve actually been a member of a world class gym as a trans woman, and there was no issue ever. I’m discrete just like everyone else. Good lord. Can we move on to trans-inclusive society version 6 yet? This version 5 sucks ass. 4 was disgusting. I know we’re getting somewhere.

Upgrade peoples!

Recovery and Rebirth in Interesting Times

America makes you crazy, so you gotta give yourself a break. I’m trying to work on getting over a lot of my instilled fear of groups and friends. I spent so long being incognito, desperately trying to be this “perfect male” so that people wouldn’t know who I really was. It takes a lot of deprogramming to undo that kind of thing, and you have to be careful about it and not just go at your history with a flamethrower. Truly remaking yourself, healing your mental health, is the subtle and daring work of a shaman or artist more than a “good patient” or whatever the authorities advocate to heal. I think that mostly I need to have an unerring devotion to the notion that I am fallible and be ready to cut those wrong assumptions about myself at the root when I find them. I rather enjoy being humble and accepting my own flaws. But it takes a lot of work, and I have to be able to accept when someone else says something true about me that I don’t want to hear. It takes practice, and each time gets easier.

I have a lot of anxiety. It comes and goes, but it has been my most loyal companion of my 37 trips around the sun. The anxiety is rooted in fear, a fear of rejection and loss of security. I’ve had people I thought cared about me suddenly turn and shun me so many times in my life that I’ve developed a serious inferiority and instability complex. Having my kids taken away was the nuclear bomb that severed me from my history. I was so broken that I was forced to start over and try anything to not want to kill myself on the daily. But I haven’t been like that for almost 2 years now because I learned to laugh at the total insanity of my situation and my behaviors. A good laugh can cure just about anything. I have my secret and unorthodox means for arriving at these salvations, and I wish I could be more open, but we live in paranoid times, so the prudential people must follow the ancient Chinese proverb in “hiding their light and biding their time.”

Life is still just as much of a challenge as when I was at my lowest. It might be even harder because I was ignoring so many things back then that I have to address now, but I just have a different perspective. I think something Buddhist or Christian or whatever stuck down in my heart, and I internalized the truth that pain is a constant in life, and yet in spite of pain, we can still have joy. It’s easy to pigeon-hole folks like myself as overly emotional social justice warrior millennial whiners, but I just have to say that some of us have a lot of shit to dig out of. Growing up trans or queer or radically in the minority is heavy, heavy stuff. There are some people who are just addicted to the victim attention for sure, but most of us misfits are just trying to get better, do better, be better, etc.

I do have great news to share though! My cat of 12 years, Snow, is recovering incredibly well from Hepatic Lipidosis which is a fairly common liver disease for house cats. I’ve had to feed her through a tube twice a day for over two weeks now, and it’s been a challenge, but my little Snowbie is doing great and returning to her cranky and loving self. Our vet is also using traditional Chinese herbal medicine to assist in her recovery, and she looks better than she’s been in a long time. My heart is so joyful over it. I am so completely blessed that my partner was able to pay for the expensive surgery too.

It’s such a strange time for America and for transgender people and everybody. There is a funny Chinese aphorism that one tells to someone they don’t particularly like: “may you be born in interesting times.” Well these sure are some interesting times. My life has been nothing if not interesting. I’m not sure exactly what I’m supposed to figure out with this Sisyphean exercise, but I’m gonna figure out whatever I can. I’m gonna play this video game until I see the final credits! 

For transgender day of invisibility, I Zeronom, wait, it’s visibility?? Oh how boring!

Hi I’m Zeronom. It’s Transgender Day of Visibility, and I happen to be classified as a transgender person in our society. It’s not who I am. I am a spirit that has manifested in this lifetime to enjoy planet Earth. My gender expression, or the style by which I communicate is what it is. I don’t really know what I am. I know that I am something, and then that there is whole lot of ignorance.

I do know that from a young age, I really wanted to be friends with the other humans that were called girls. I wanted to act like them. I wanted to be expressive and dance around and sing and be fun. I didn’t know what boy or girl was until I learned that I wasn’t doing “boy” the right way, and therefore I was gay, queer, a faggot, etc. It was an attempt by society to split me and my friends apart into acceptable and unacceptable categories so as to split us up and make us easier to manage and manipulate.

We tell our young boys that they are acting “too girly” so to instruct them on what is the proper and correct way to be a man. This seems on the surface to be a logical extension of a system of ethics, and many Americans see this idea of what is the “right way to be male” as inherently tied into moral and religious issues like whether or not someone is reliable or friendly or helpful or dangerous. But gender is not what most people think it is. Gender is mostly just a sophisticated form of style.

When I get excited about something, I tend to be vocal, and expressive in a physical manner. I might be very talkative or vulnerable in my expression. This is just me. It’s not male or female or whatever. We create those categories, and we as a society say “we should have two genders and not four” or “real men don’t express themselves that way.” The individual people are wavy and dark, and the strictures and codes that we put on ourselves collectively are bright and straight, and the more curvy among us are constantly scraping up against these arbitrary old fashioned concepts.

It’s not that I as a transgender person wants to destroy gender. No, I just desire an upgrade for gender. Gender is currently an 8-bit concept, and we want at least some Nintendo 64 Gender action up in this place already.

When a person is born as a biological female, chromosomally female so as to speak, and they say “I want to have short hair, I want to wear pants, and I don’t want to wear makeup,” they are tolerated. When a person is born as biological male, chromosomally male so as to speak, and they say “I want to wear a dress, I want to put on makeup during the day, and I want to be very expressive with with my mannerisms,” they are shamed to the deepest part of hell and their lives are physically threatened constantly. There are definitely places where this is not true, but it is still the average truth of America.

I’m not ashamed. I love myself. I’m so happy to be me. I hope we can get along. Because I’m here, and most of us are here just to be friendly and help keep this boat above water.

The Hope by Abbey Pope (me)

https://www.reverbnation.com/abbeypope/song/27618400-the-hope

He was a candle that burned in the wrong shade
everyone knew it and whispered about his way
and the children go
where the wind won’t blow
a smile betrayed his tender soul
but kindness is murder to boys in the wrong role
and the children go
where the wind won’t blow
and so the peaceful ones
called the faggot sons
they’re the hope of young
people everywhere

He never believed that he could win
layered with chains of every kind of sin
and the children learn
how the fire burns
they bottled up love and sold it at the store
angels drink spirits to numb out all the war
and the children learn
how the fire burns
and so the peaceful ones
called the faggot sons
they’re the hope of young
people everywhere

But time has begun
when the halo rings the son
who burns like a star
he’s the flaming savior one
he’s the time where evil runs
he’s the end of coward’s guns
and anyone can dance whatever dance they want

That feeling! Ughhh! I hated that feeling!!

Being in the closet transgender was rough and I thought that I was the only one who felt that way. I looked at the world like it was a giant nightmare that was always just about to collapse around on top of me. I was terrified that everything was going to fall apart. Nothing made sense.

I’m actually really glad that normal people now know what that feeling feels like. Trump America is pretty much what my closet America felt like. Haha. Yeah it sucks.

But you’ll get through it.

Find a transgender person and ask them for guidance if you’re scared lol. Haha