Category: Rants

Medieval Mayday

First thing I want to say is this. It is nice to know that there are still some parts of the UK that see May Day as more than just a bank holiday.

As you can imagine the weather was typical for a bank holiday in the UK, solid rain all day. Sometimes light drizzle, sometimes full on cloudbursts and sometimes somewhere in between the two. It was an early start to the morning I had to haul my rump out of bed at 7am, to get to my dad’s to pack the car and then get to Headstone Manor for 9am, so everything could be set up for noon, yes it takes that long to rig up an archery range (well just over two hours with the two of us) could be a lot worse though. Due to the weather you had a lot of complaining about the lack of gazebos, and that was from the people who had paid to hire one out but could not have one because they were broken.

If any one from Harrow Council reads this, PLEASE FIX/REPLACE THE BROKEN GAZEBOS! If you do this the events you put on will be much more enjoyable for all if bad weather plagues the event!

Everything got set up and the medieval re-enactment group that were at the event asked us to borrow our archery range, because for some reason they couldn’t set their own one up. Wait you are re-enactors and you can’t set up your own range? Turns out they needed to borrow ours because they didn’t have any nets to set up behind their targets to catch any arrows that over shoot. Well given health and safety regulations that was a pretty damned crucial piece of kit to forget. Nice enough people, don’t get me wrong just seemingly a little disorganized and some of them were drunk, I’m guessing they had been drinking a lot the night before, you could smell the mead on some of them. Oh well each to their own and no one got hurt.

The displays the group put on were very good indeed, and they did drum up a lot of interest in the archery stand. Though this wasn’t always a good thing. There were times during that day that I did question the intelligence and common sense of people (in this instant the lack thereof). Now what you need to picture here is that the archery range we had set up had an exclusion zone around it, roped off with big obvious signs saying “Stop! Archery In Progress”. Archery is dangerous you are shooting sharp projectiles at a target at high velocity. This is obvious right? Well according to two young Eastern European mothers it was perfectly fine for them to sit on a nearby picnic bench and let their children, no more than two or three years old play in the exclusion zone. When my father asked them to remove their children from the exclusion zone they decided to mouth of at him in whichever language they spoke and stormed off. Bloody hell it would have been a different story if either toddler had been skewered by a rebounding arrow.

There was an incident even worse than this though. An Afro-carribean lady and her children came up to the stand to have a go at archery, and all was fine until they had finished their turns. She then saw fit to let her kids run rampant, not paying any head to the safety and warning signs. They ran up to the archery targets and played around them, this is not safe in any way shape or form, everyone who has an iota of common sense will realize this. Not this woman, when my father and I stopped the archery and asked her to remove her children from the range all we got was expletives and back chat, and her telling us that her kids were fine and to stop making a scene. Jeebus Cripes if a single one of those arrows had gone near her children it would have been a different story. It’s stupid people like this that make me ashamed to be human and share the world with them at times..

All was not doom and gloom, we made a considerable amount given the weather conditions for the Harrow Museum/Headstone Manor and I hope those proceeds are put to good use preserving the wonderful example of medieval architecture that Headstone Manor and it’s out buildings are.

We will be back at Harrow in Leaf in August for the two day event there. I hope the Harrow Beekeepers will be there with their honey, I am going to buy a lot of it and make up a batch of mead (funds depending as it’s £5 a jar! But totally worth the cost!)


Sod Valentine’s Day

So it’s that time of year again, red roses in every flower shop, overly priced ones that don’t even smell like a rose at that. Enough fluffy toys holding hearts to make you sick and way too many chocolates. February 14th, St Valentine’s Day and how I hate it. The dewy eyed lovesick couples  wandering hand in hand and snogging in public at every turn makes me sick. If you love your partner that much then why do you need one special day to show them all that affection? You don’t, if you love them as much as you claim you don’t need an arbitrary date on calender to tell you to shower them in commercial crap. Know what sickens me more? That card retailers are trying to make Valentines Day for all the family. Why so greedy? Hell why all the fuss about it in the first place, it’s a fake freaking festival to begin with, well the Valentines day we know today is anyway. Designed to break up the sales dead zone between Christmas and Easter and generate more income.

I tried to think well of Valentines Day in years gone by I really did, but it’s become one of those times of year that I loathe. Early days, I was always single on Valentines Day, every time for a number of years and it irritated me when people took the piss out of me for it, that and the accusations of being a lesbian. Yes I’m bisexual and I’ve known that for a while but I didn’t know back then when it happened. I had  no idea who or what I was in those days other than I wasn’t like the other girls and that’s not the best state of mind to be in an all girls boarding school. That is in the past and that is where it’s staying, thankfully.

Doesn’t help that my grandmother died on Valentines Day, I watched her breathe her last breath and loose her battle with cancer. It’s not a nice memory to have for a day that’s supposedly about love and happiness and other stuff. I have memories of death, I wasn’t fond of my grandmother but even now, more than ten years later I miss the batty old woman. I hated her strict catholic ways and I hated going to see her in the summer holidays because I was never ever allowed to go and play with the other children in the street but I do miss her because despite all of her strict rules and ways she used to spoil my sister and me absolutely rotten.

Even when I was with someone at Valentines Day I still hated it, more often than not because I would try and do something and get nothing back and it felt like my presence and getting a gift was being taken for granted. I remember with one partner I spent a lot of money on them, what I got in return was a packet of out of date chocolates and getting dumped a few hours later, that sucked and hurt. I never seemed to get any luck, even now I don’t have much luck but then again I’ve grown used to not and everyone I work with knows just how much I despise the time of year. Part of me does hope that maybe one year something will be  a little different but I’m not holding my hopes up I’m probably going to be the Valentines Day equivalent of Scrooge for the rest of my days.

Another reason for me to hate Valentines Day.  It serves as a constant reminder of my situation and it intensifies my self hatred. I have been told and I have read on a few occasions that a person can’t truly love another person until they have learned to love themselves, and I’m inclined to agree because I am not happy with the way I am. I positively loath the female form I have and that does have a negative influence on the relationship I am in and those I have been in. I guess part of the reason for hating Valentines Day so much is possibly down the the jealously factor. I’m jealous of those who are happy with themselves and their situations and as a result they probably have a better relationship with their partners than I have with mine.

It’s not all been doom and gloom though, I have had a few presents  over the years. I think the best presents I’ve ever been given was, rather ironically a rose, though this one was blue in colour. The other was again a rose but this rose was a leather rose, little things like that really appeal to the kinky side of my nature. I still have the original leather rose I was given, there are now another two keeping it company.

I don’t know what it is but I absolutely fail to understand why the younger generation these days have a complete and utter disrespect for everyone around them. I remember going to school and once a week we had a lesson with the head mistress teaching us about being courteous, the importance of a sense of dignity and to carry yourself in a dignified fashion, we were taught the importance of manners and respect.  I hated those lessons because I found them a little dull, but at the end of the day they’ve done me a lot of good. Why does such a practice not continue in schools today. It was only eight years ago that I left secondary education. It shocks me to see how much had changed in what is such a comparatively short space of time.

Hell I know I was a stubborn little so-n-so at times, rude on occasions and yes when I got riled up I swore like a trooper (and still do) but I was never as bad as the younger generation of today. I still held a great amount of respect for my elders and betters. As I see it they’ve lived life, and they can teach me from what they’ve experienced. I’ve seen the growing lack of respect towards teachers and older generations, and first hand with my mother. My mother is a teacher by profession and it was only last week that when she asked one of her students (this young man is 16) why he had lied to her about doing his holiday homework he said to her it was none of her business and would make no difference whether he lied or not. He just shouted and ranted at her in the school corridor for the best art of ten minutes and what makes matters worse is that there is nothing my mother can do about it. She has to deal with the verbal abuse, all she can do is report the student to the principle and it gets ‘dealt’ with from there. Nothing ever happens though, then it’s just a matter of time before the next student hurls verbal abuse at my mother, or any other teacher.

It’s not just with teachers though, I was on the us earlier today heading back from college and it’s a packed bus, always is that time of the day. Stopped at a bus stop as the bus does and people get off, though this arrogant toe rag needs to get off the bus but instead of being polite and saying “excuse me” he shoved passed me and several other people, I ended up being shoved into one of the metal uprights in the bus and got a bump on the head as a result, not to bothered about that, bumps and bruises heal. I was more concerned that the force of the impact broke my Kindle e-reader, which was stowed in the pouch pocket at the front of the jumper. Before I could say anything the lad had pegged it off the bus at speed. I’m really peeved off about that as the Kindle was a gift from my parents for my 25th birthday and with a price tag of £149 to buy a replacement. I can’t afford that kind of money, at least I still have all my books backed up on my computer. Why do the younger generation have such an attitude problem. I’m not trying to tar everyone with the same brush here because there are some genuinely kind, courteous and well mannered people amongst the younger generation. It’s just a great shame that they are, unfortunately, the vast minority. Is there anything that can be done to change this worrying trend? I sure hope so.

This is a rant post, so I apologize in advance. It’s something that I need to get out of my system. So what started this whole rant off?

Actually it’s something rather mundane that got me ranting. See I live in a flat share it’s me, my fiance, an awesome and kind woman from Transylvania and then the bitch from hell (who’s from Slovakia if you were wandering) and unofficially staying with us is the bitch’s boyfriend. He’s not on the tenancy agreement and thus, should not be living at the property. So when you are living in shared accommodation the proper thing to do is to divide up the bills equally yes? So in this instance, five people use the utilities, thus the bill should be split five ways. Well the bitch decided that because her man isn’t on the tenancy agreement he doesn’t have to pay the bills. So according to her the bill is split into quarters and her man doesn’t pay a thing. How is that right or even fair, turns out the bitch has been rounding the numbers up for the bills and pocketing the change. Why do people have to be so dishonest. I’m pissed off that today is a Sunday otherwise I would have marched straight into the estate agents to complain and figure out if there is anything we (the other housemates) can do about the bitch and her boyfriend.

Why do people have to abuse the trust they are given? Why can people not just be honest to themselves and to each other. I got a ‘nice’ not stuck on my door after I left for work calling me a fat, rude, selfish bitch and that I should be thanking the bitchy woman for paying our bills in on time.  Yes, I have said thank you to her for paying our bills, but why should I say thank you to her for pocketing our change? What ever happened to holding honesty close to the heart, as a virtue that a person should value and hold dear to? I look at the world around at times and I weep, ‘old values’ that were once a code to live by now mean nothing. What has happened to this world and what will become of it in the years to come. Doesn’t really bare thinking about.

I’ve been quiet for a while I know, I’ve had so much going on that I’ve precious few moments I can call my own. What little time I do have is spent doing homework. So yea, I’ve gone back to college in a desperate attempt to gain more A levels and try to go to university. I need to get myself out of this complete and utter dead end of a minimum wage job I have. I’m really sad to say it because once upon a time I really enjoyed the job I do, but now I don’t. I’ve seen the company I’ve worked for, for the past four years turn into something hideous, the company once valued till monkeys like me we used to get give £15 from the company and told to buy ourselves a Christmas present and £15 a head to organize a Christmas party. Now we have to fund our own parties and we get a cheap and nasty bottle of Cava that tastes like it costs about £2, so nasty I wouldn’t even consider cooking or pickling onions with it! So what is it about this time of year that brings out the best or in some cases the worst in us all?

Yuletide has been a mixture of ups and downs for me both inside and outside of the work place. We will start with the high notes as that’s how things went for me, from fantastic to gawd awful. This winter season I actually managed to make it to an open blot and symbel organized by my friends and held in their own home. So public transport issues aside, I made it there in good time. This was the first blot and symbel I’ve managed to attend with friends and the people there made me feel so much more at home than my own family and other heathens. Most places I have gone, I have been shunned more because I follow Loki than because I’m transgendered. Trust me it hurts when others like you turn you away because of the patron who chose you to follow them. Loki is seen as the enemy by a fair number of heathens and yes I can understand why, even so he is Odhin’s blood brother and without one you cannot have the other. Loki is the chaos to Odhin’s order, the two must coexist for there to be balance, thus does it not make sense that there are those who follow Loki in contrast to those who follow Odhin. Every time I’ve made this point in the past I’ve nearly always be shunned further. With the exception of a few people whom I count as my friends.

The kindness I was shown at the gathering, even by those present who had met be for the first time at the gathering moved me. I’ve always been the outcast, the stranger on the outside looking in, but for one evening in my life I was made to feel like part of the family and I will always be grateful for that and to be considered family by those men and women there is a great honour. I feel like I’ve finally found a place and people to call home and family. It’s not often that I’ve been moved to tears at gatherings of any sort but this was most certainly one of those few, to feel a level of acceptance and feel a sense of worth is priceless and means a lot to me. I have a serious confidence issues and self image issues, well given I identify as male and reside within a female body is enough to mess my head up to start with, not to mention I despise the fact my body has so much wrong with it on an incurable genetic level just adds to the problems. Enough of that though, I was accepted as part of the family for who and what I am, things like that don’t normally happen to me and the experience is something that it going to stay with me for a long time.

After a few grueling days at work, trust me working in retail at this time of the years sucks balls, joutun sized ones at that! Got to hate pulling in 12 hour shifts. You get up, hurriedly scoff a bowl of cereal, poor the remains of your hot coffee into a thermos and then drink that behind the counter. Spend your entire lunch break trying to find a descent sandwich because the local tesco express, in their wisdom stopped selling sandwiches and salads in favour of cheeseboards and Christmas puddings. Once a good sandwich has been located and purchased you get left with about fifteen minuets to scoff said sandwich and make an attempt at ticking off another item from the Christmas shopping list. The doors finally close to the baying masses and two hours later you find that you are still trying to fix the shelves the inconsiderate children and their blind eye turning parents broke earlier on in the day. You eventually get out, get home, make dinner, fall asleep while attempting to eat dinner, wake up to find it’s stone cold, eat it anyway take a shower and then crawl into bed just to start the whole damned process again in about five hours. Oh I almost forgot about the mini argument with the assistant manager. He’s christian and I’ve got no problem with that. I had a problem that he put a nativity display in the front window of the shop, we sell computers, consoles and games, if it had been a proper nativity scene I probably wouldn’t have minded but he decided to use computer game characters… a my little pony as a sheep, a transparent Master Chief  as the angel Gabriel to name just two. I’m not Christian and I find that highly disrespectful, my mother is catholic and she found the scene offensive when she saw it. I made the point to the assistant manager that if he wanted to display something like that it should be done properly and perhaps have other items related to the festivals of other faiths that happen around that time of year as we’re not supposed to have religiously biased window displays. I also made him aware that I found the whole scene offensive, to which he replied “I’m Christian, tough luck I’m putting it up”. I managed to speak to the store manager a few days later about it, and nothing got done, even though some regular customers complained at how disrespectful it was. It’s still there now… We all have our own beliefs but who has the right to belittle and be disrespectful towards other faiths or lack of faith? None of us do, because at the end of the day none of us are wholly right and none of us are wholly wrong.

Thank gawd I managed to get the Solstice off and spend a little time with my fiance recuperating before my friend and mentor arrived. Yes that was the next highlight of the season. My good friends and mentor, a slightly nuts Icelandic chap in his 70s who I have the utmost respect for. Hell I’d lay down my life for him if it would mean he could live a little longer he means that much to me. Some people say I have a few screws loose for being prepared to do that, well maybe I do but that’s the way it is. The heathen community here in London has already lost one  brilliant role model of a man  and inspiration to us all from it’s midst this year, I’d sooner lay down my own life than let another guiding light blink out. Bar the usual London transport induced problems I had another brilliant day. A day full of food, mead, laughs and a movie marathon. Not much of a celebration but it’s being with those who we hold dear that counts at the end of the day, even if all idea of ritual was forgotten about in the mead induced haziness. A day of of good company and good fun to be followed by a few days back at the grind stone. Well at least the company were nice enough to let us drink from 2pm on the 24th, it made the hectic day pass just that little bit quicker. I wish it had not though, things got worse from there on out. I had to go and see my family.

My mother is both French and Catholic so for her the Christmas celebrations start with a massive dinner after church. Thankfully I was still at work when my parents left to go mass and I didn’t get dragged along, sometimes out of control kids in a shop are blessings in disguise. I made an attempt to dress up and try and look girly for my mother’s sake. I hate women’s clothes, and when you are my size anything on you will look as flattering as a  sack of potatoes. I wish I hadn’t done that, honestly wish I hadn’t all I got was criticism. Maybe I should have kept wearing the elf costume (re enactment gear with a pair of latex ears and a santa hat) and she would have shut up. To add insult to injury she started on my fiance too when he arrived, he didn’t get the chance to change he came straight from work! So yea, roll on one evening of being made to feel like an outcast amongst my own family. Should have expected it though, things haven’t changed for the past… I’ve lost count how many years. I don’t remember much else of the evening other than drinking a lot to try and drown out the comments and feeling of isolation. I think my dad must have dropped my fiance and I home, there was no way I could have caught a bus. Come of think of it though, the less I remember of the 24th, 25th and 26th of December the better.

So we got an unexpected but not unpleasant awakening the following morning. My fiance’s parents called to wish us a Merry Christmas and to see how we were. See we were supposed to be spending the Christmas period with them on the Isle of Wight this year but due to one particular managerial a-hole it didn’t happen. Maybe next year. His parents spoiled us rotten with gifts, we ended up with a sizable food hamper and a box of smaller gifts each, the smaller gifts were not valuable but they were items we would both enjoy and that’s what counts. Our hampers and boxes arrived before Solstice so we opened them then. Along with the gifts from one of my closest friends. My cat ended up as high as a kite on the catnip she had sent. What little of the herb I have left is going into a denim cat toy, hopefully this on will last longer than it’s fluffy predecessor. Time will tell. So after a short but pleasant conversation with my fiance’s parents my father was on the phone to let us know he was waiting in the car for us. Anyway to cut a long and boring story short, my fiance and I were made to feel like the outsiders again, even though it was my parents that invited us over for Christmas, he doesn’t eat fish so he was given a pastrami based starting course instead… the pastrami was two days out of date, had turned green in places and they got offended that he didn’t eat it. Hell I could smell the stuff had gone off. In the end he ate some of it to appease them and ended up ill later that night. So yea presents, most of the stuff I got I’ll never use and my sister irritated me the most. She bought me a second hand, incomplete mahjong set from ebay. I love mahjong don’t get me wrong and it’s a beautiful set of bamboo and bone tiles, just damaged, missing it’s scoring sticks, missing two out of it’s four six sided dice, missing it’s trumps dice and missing the winds coins. I scour the country to find my dad a brand new and complete set (Thank you Witzigs of Fakenham, Norfolk), spent money I didn’t have on it and I get a damaged and incomplete set for a present. Gee thanks, a mahjong set I can’t play mahjong with. Maybe I’m overreacting a little bit but I still feel a little bit hurt about it, not to mention the joint smegging presents again my birthday is the day after Christmas so nearly all my relatives cheap out and get me combined birthday and Christmas presents. I wait a whole freaking year and get half the presents the rest of the family does, thanks for making me feel like I’m not as valued as everyone else. It really gets my goat, it really does. I got something and don’t get me wrong I’m grateful for that, they cheaped out on my fiance too, he got all of about three presents from them. It really upsets me that I get a huge and expensive hamper to share with him from his parents and a large box of smaller gifts but my parents come up with next to nothing for him and my sister gets spoiled rotten with I dread to think how much all the jewellery is worth. More than enough to buy three possibly four pairs of Doc Martens with. Yes I am a bitter bastard at times, and yes I despise the fact that my sister can seem to do no wrong and is treated as such. Though I’m the sod that gets called at 2am in the morning to fix a computer problem, even though I don’t live at home any more.

So other than the pastrami episode Christmas dinner passed relatively easily and without any tears (makes a change) though the snide and unwelcoming comments from my sister towards my fiance and I didn’t stop and a blind eye was turned to them  by my parents. I’ve become so accustomed to them that I try not to let them get to me. After dinner, a few rounds of mahjong. Things were going well me managed to teach my grandfather how to play as well, always a good thing, but when my father and grandfather left the table to keep my mother company in the lounge things when badly badly wrong. My fiance, my sister and I continued to play mahjong, well for only one round, my sister lost the round and I had one. She is a sore loser and decided to start shouting at me and throwing the mahjong tiles about the dining room before storming off to her room, leaving me and my fiance to pick and pack up everything. We packed up and gathered our things and  asked to be dropped off home because my sister had made it clear I wasn’t welcome and we didn’t want to put up with her attitude any longer. I had to wait almost an hour for my mother to finish watching a DVD before they even considered dropping us home. Needless to say when we did eventually get whom I was an emotional wreck and almost did a number of very stupid things. If my fiance had not been there I would have probably slashed open both of my wrists. I spent a number of years in the past teetering on the edge of oblivion, and tried to end it all on a few occasions, my friends kept me alive but it does mean that it doesn’t take much for my family to drive me close to the edge any more, It was my mother that caused the previous instances the first time round. Not a subject I am completely comfortable with talking about, even to anonymous readers. There is so much in my past that eats away at my future, so many maggots I need to pull out, and stamp on but do not have the strength to do so. Old wounds run deep and don’t always heal.

The more I proof read this the more it seems to be turning into a rant, I do apologize for that but this is just one of those things that I need to get off my chest and into the open, so it doesn’t fester. I hope I am not boring you. I spent the rest of Christmas Day swinging between a state of emotional numbness to extreme depression with no middle ground between them.  Thankfully my fiance eventually pulled me out of it. He’s good at pulling me out of pits like that and it’s one of the many reasons I love him. He loves me dearly and goes out if his way to make sure that I’m alright even if I can’t see that myself. I don’t know what I’d do without him, I honestly don’t. I love him to pieces. So that just leaves my birthday to discuss. I don’t think I can, I need to to try and get this weight off my chest but I don’t know how to. My family hurt me so much, my fiance was served up the same off pastrami, the preserved asparagus that was served had gone off too, my birthday cake was a walnut coffee cake… I hate walnuts and they know it. My fiance and I both ended up ill and I with more of my sister’s snide and hurtful comments I landed up in the same pit I was in the night before, thank goodness I went back to work today, at least that kept my mind busy and drove my mind away from the dark places it goes to.

So what is it that makes my family invite me over to dinner for Christmas, make me feel like an outcast, wonder why I’m upset, get annoyed because I am upset and then expect me to do the same the following year? Another question to that would be why am I such a fool to hope that maybe next year things will get better? They never do though, same old routine, I always spend both the 25th and 26th in tears so why do I put myself through it every year. I must be a sucker for emotional pain and anguish because I can’t figure out an answer.

So here ends my rant of essay proportions.


Trans Intolerance

I got involved in a disscussion about how transfolk are veiwed by other people within their community and by society at large and there was one woman there who shocked me and really hurt a few of us transfolk who are there. This woman is also one of the LGBT officers for her college which really sickens me. The words she said over the course of the disucission are here in italic text, at least the words that hurt me and my companions the most.

I hate transgendered people and transsexuals. They’re usually pretty crazy. I’ve met at least 10 TG people in my life, and all of them have other mental disorders in addition to gender dysphoria. Beyond that, I think that everyone should love themselves for the way they were born, the way they are meant to be. Trans surgery is just genital mutilation to me.

When we questioned why she thought all transfolk had some form of mental illness she said this

They ARE mentally ill. Gender Dysphoria is a real diagnosis that transpeople are given. They’re required to go through therapy in order to receive reassignment surgery.

I understand that the goal of therapy and treatments are to make the patients more comfortable, but in this case I feel that the treatment should be to tackle the problem of wanting to be a different sex rather than making the person that sex.

Beyond that, you learn in abnormal psychology classes that most people who have one disorder also are prone to having other disorders, such as depression or bipolar disorders

One of the transfolk came up with this response

Gender as defined in the mind is inherent and immutable. This is a medically proven and accepted fact. Attempting to “tackle the problem of wanted to be a different sex” is the equivalent of lobotomy and is unethical on the highest of levels

Gender Identity Disorder in and of itself is quite unlike disorders usually referred to such as bipolar or schizophrenia; what I didn’t like was the insinuation that they were crazy, which crops up in almost every TG discussion.

Your feelings on “they should make them feel right with their bodies” are held by many people, including psychologists, psychiatrists, and general therapists. They try that first. When it fails, they try gender reassignment surgery and hormone therapy, which, unsurprisingly, has a vastly higher success rate. You said yourself that they have to go through treatment prior to surgery, which means you know this.

What you are essentially saying is “they should get therapy. It doesn’t work? Well too fucking bad, anything more and it’s genital mutilation!

I admit I was deeply hurt by what this woman was saying and stayed out of the discussion for the most part, it didn’t stop me making a note of the other hurtful things that were said. I know at somepoint someone mentioned noses but I can’t remember what exactly. I’ll continue to post the comments and replies transfolk made in bolded text

I work on a college campus in an LGBT office, and we have a very high TG rate, which at times feels like people are just trending on eachother. I have spoken to each of them, and have witnessed some of them have outbursts of unusual hostility/anger, as well as unusual crying/bawling in reaction to comments unrelated to their gender identity or personality.

For me, I could never date someone who would get reassignment surgery. MtF transsexuals have to use a dildo-like object a few times a day in order to keep their new vagina from closing up and healing itself. It’s not something that they do just after surgery, it’s a lifetime treatment. That to me screams of mutilation.

It’s not comparable to someone who was born without a nose. A nose has a specific function that is necessary. It moistens and removes fibers from the air before it reaches the lungs. It is a protective organ that someone was born without. Transpeople are not born lacking genitalia. They are not born without something that is necessary for function, such as urination. They’re changing what they already have, like plastic surgery. I don’t consider a surgically constructed vagina to be the same as a natural born one. While surgens can do wonders to make it look similar, it does not perform the same functions of a natural born one. Transpeople who are born a women and transition to being a male via taking T will still have a vagina. The only difference there is that they have a larger clitoris

Right, the same way a cochlear implant doesn’t make an ear, lab-grown skin grafts aren’t skin, and surgically constructed noses aren’t noses.A robotic arm is an arm, right? God, I hope you don’t use that tone when you’re talking to amputees. “Hey nice arm. Too bad it can’t quite grasp with the same finesse as my fancy natural-born one, huh?”As for function- functionality does not make or break a vagina’s validness as a vagina. Plenty of women with vaginas that they were born with are incapable of lubrication, penetration, self-cleaning, or natural disease control. This doesn’t mean they magically aren’t vaginas. Yeah, if they keep their vaginas they’ll still have vaginas. If they have genital reconstruction surgery, they will no longer have vaginas, and they will then have penises depending on what kind they get. Some prefer to call it a “neo-phallus”, but you can be damn sure no doctor will look at it and say “Yep, that right there is a vagina!”

An implant is an implant. A graft is a graft. A construction is a construction. And, a robotic limb is robotic. They are likenesses of the real thing, but not the real thing. Many FtM transpeople don’t get bottom surgery, from what I have read and been told. Most just take hormones. If they do get surgery, sure, it’ll look like a penis, but it won’t ejaculate like one.

My response to that comment was that I would rather something that at least resembled a penis instead of a hole that bleeds for 5 to 7 days out of every month. That I would rather that than have the constant reminder that the gender I identify with and the sex of the body I was born into do not match. Lacking semen ejaculation does not invalidate a penis of being a penis.

She left the conversation after that but I am still stunned and appalled that this woman is supposed to be there as a go to person, to offer help and advice to transfolk like myself. For someone who is supposed to be an LGBT officer for her college she is spreading so much hurtful misinformation. It would seem that her sterotype that “All transfolk are crazy” affects her preception of us as a whole. That her belief that all people are “born the way they are meant to be” and that she frowns down upon the very procedures which have saved the lives of the very people she is supposed to be helping in her job, not to mention she calls those procedures mutilation; and she has a distinct lack of factual credibility where matters such as Genital Reassignment Surgery are concerned. I am glad that I don’t have to rely on her for help and advice but I feel bad for those people that do, I dread to think what she has been telling them.