Category: Life

I stared at my cellphone. The phone number was there, I just had to press the icon of the phone to place the call. I couldn’t.

The second day I did it. I explained to the person on the other end that I had called about being able to get an assessment for hormone replacement therapy. They thought that this wasn’t the right extension, but that they’d find the individual I was trying to get to and have them call me. They then asked me for my number. I froze.

I couldn’t remember my own phone number. This had never happened. My old phone number came to mind. Was that my old one? My new one? I knew my email address. Could I give them that instead? They then read off her Caller ID and asked me if that was my number. It was. Thank goodness.

I got a call back. I was told that this was a new program, and that they’d call me next week to schedule an appointment with for the assessment. That was in May.

It doesn’t feel two months have passed.

I’ve seen the social support worker twice now. I have four more appointments to go before I can get a referral to an endocrinologist. I’m really grateful for the program that’s giving me these free appointments, because the other avenue of approaching my family doctor just wasn’t an option.

How far I’ve come, in so many ways. For those who have been around me during this time, especially those that just listened and opened up to me, I’d like to thank you. One of my greatest obstacles had been to overcome this feeling that what I was experiencing wasn’t real because it didn’t share the resolve of that narrative I heard over and over. You broke that perception down, and in doing so, made me feel a little less alone.

There are many unknowns that remain in me. My head is a mess of strong emotions and anecdotes, wishes and pains. I’ve nonetheless decided to go ahead with the process of acquiring hormone replacement therapy. To make that call, book the appointments. First out of fear of deep regret if I waited while my body further masculinized, and then out of a nascent sense of confidence.

The more time passes, the more I’m sure that that was the right thing to do. Having a future where my body becomes a part of me that helps me find joy, as opposed to being an impediment to that, is becoming viable. I don’t want to give the impression that everything is certain. It isn’t. But stories from those around me has given me strength to find myself, and I know that I won’t regret anything as I move forward.

So where does that leave you and me.

At this time, if I’m asked for my preferred pronouns, I answer they/them. I don’t correct people that use ‘he’. I don’t feel like either the trans or cis label fit me, jokingly referring to myself as gender fucked. You can use genderqueer. I would also caution against the erroneous assumption that my choice of labels diminishes the importance of transitioning for myself.

Finally, I want to thank everyone that’s shown me kindness and acceptance.

I’m a little weary of queer spaces.

I include Tumblr in that, I include Facebook groups in that, and I include real-world facilities and events. My own potlucks too.

To me, queer is not just a synonym for gay or trans. It’s a stance on bodily autonomy. It is a perpetual other-ness, existing in the space where that autonomy is infringed.

But queer spaces, and queerdom, are not the same. The queer spaces I’ve come to see are homogeneous. Overwhelmingly young. Androgynous. Vegan. Anti-oppression. Anarchist. Well educated, irrespective of formal education. Born in the same country. Fluent in English.

These like any are of course entirely legitimate forms of being. But step back, and when you see that this narrow expression consumes nearly the entirety of so-called queer spaces, then there is ample reason for concern.

It goes on, unquestioned. We parrot stories on ableism but I see now that it’s only to grant us the illusion of enlightenment, when in fact our own exclusion speaks for itself.

There are spaces for queers that are inclusive. They are harder to navigate, but that’s what it is to be among the diverse. Let’s stop fooling ourselves and calling things a queer space when they are anything but.

These images were circulating on the Internet. The caption stated:

http://www.businessinsider.com/category/millennials this is such an interesting battle in tonal shifts of “ungrateful millennials” and “ways we’re exploiting millennials” and “7 sexy tips to degrade and humiliate your milennial into submission” and “why your milennials are leaving you”

This is my response:

When they’re talking about millenials, they really mean the off-spring of white affluent baby boomers and/or descendants. And while this group might be less prosperous than their parents, we should perhaps step back and question whether their parents wealth was ever deserved in the first place.

I would argue that the prosperity of the privileged among our parents’ generation was the product of exploitation on an international scale. In the twentieth century through colonialism, and then through flexing our might that was only gained through the lottery of history. I would maintain that globalization has acted as an equalizer for this. That the more we created disparities between different economies, the greater the push back as the global community started to get smaller and smaller.

But this doesn’t speak to practices that serve to exploit our own in order to artificially maintain the level of comfort this privileged class has come accustomed to. Like using free labour via unpaid internships, reducing taxes by making the young pay for more of their own post-secondary while simultaneously making it a quasi-requirement for many jobs that don’t even need it, putting downward pressure on minimum wages, and cutting benefits for new entrants. Policies that target the young and other new arrivals to this game that have it much tougher, like immigrants and those re-entering the work force.

Because that’s how power works. Those who have it serve themselves, and go so far as to eat their own young – even if such acts aren’t recoverable, and have a permanent effect on future prosperity. The young don’t have power, so they get exploited.

But perhaps worse of all is that all the young who are targeted now, will only gladly take hold of whatever power they do garner so that they can repeat the process all over again to the next generation.

Because they think, erroneously, that they deserve it.