Obnoxious and aggressive men avoid me like the plague. I know they are out there. They target our trans sisters and other women daily with varying degrees of icky behavior and quite often sexual assault. Women keep a laundry list of defensive techniques to be deployed at a moment’s notice given this paradigm of potential violence. Men simply can’t believe this is a way of life for every woman they know. Maybe they don’t want to believe it. More on that that later.
In the meantime, despite all the strides women have made throughout society, there is an underlying assumption that they are only here to be pretty. They are only valuable in terms of what they can provide to the men in their lives. Even when women enjoy equal and positive partnerships in their personal life, they face a world that still doesn’t consider them equal to men. Despite every male ally in their own lives, they still face a world that can turn ugly and dangerous with little to no warning. This a generational legacy of trauma that won’t simply vanish. It needs to be forcibly confronted and removed.
It is not up to abused to do that work. It is the responsibility of men. It is a banner they must consistently carry into every corner of their lives. It is calling out other men when they use offensive language toward women. It is standing in the face of misogyny and violence without flinching. It is building coalitions with likeminded men to create a new way forward and then force the fence-sitters to take a stand. The time to stay silent is long past. The data is crystal clear. Has been for millennia. Her story is one of abuse, discrimination, frustration and fear. Of fighting tooth and nail for each new accommodation men take for granted.
Ignorance and intransigence can be worse than hate. They create a default blindness to obvious truths. They provide a permission structure for men to continue ignoring the painful wounds present in their lives by way of the relationships they have with women. Maybe it’s the underlying sense of powerlessness when it comes to changing such a fundamental fissure in society? It is certainly a huge problem that is ubiquitous and seemingly immune to the cures we’ve leveraged elsewhere to even the scales. This just might something only the Grim Reaper can sort at the end of the day. Hate is dying out. Finally.
A generational shift is underway no matter what men do. Or don’t do. We’re actually enjoying the fruits of that change every single day. Ten years ago we’d likely still be in the closet or Jason might have never looked for my face in his own. Might never have figured out why his life never quite clicked even with all the power and privilege his biography, biology and identity provided him in America. Now that conversation has blossomed into this new life we’re navigating with all the love and support everyone should expect. We’re convinced there are other people like us, but there hasn’t been visibility much less acceptance.
Now that I am on the scene, we found both in short order. Almost from the jump. It’s been one good day after another and continues to expand into new horizons. I’ve only had to face a single incident of toxic male attention in the many months I’ve been out and about in this world. This dude had the temerity to suggest I leave the Uptown VFW with him, so he can take me to his place and do “some things” to me. Wouldn’t look me in the eye either, but I was a foot taller in my platform Chucks and dismissed this disgusting advance with a simple, “Ew. No.” I had plenty of backup in easy reach, but it wasn’t needed in this case.
Sadly, though, my reality isn’t shared by the majority of women. I’ll always be a girl with a boy’s body. Thankfully, Jason had a pretty one to use. It wasn’t much of a challenge turning a He into a She, though finding the Me within the We continues to take shape. We really didn’t have a role model to turn to, so we leveraged the many strong and dynamic women in our life to provide guidance. Jason had been detoxifying his male ego for more than five years before I came along. It ensured he had those women to turn to when it became clear there was a female part of his identity that he never knew existed.
Now we’re moving from being an ally and an advocate to being an activist. Our very existence makes that an impossible responsibility to avoid. Every single day we’re making a statement about how we would see the future evolve. We’re taking a confident stand in places where voices like ours aren’t often heard. We’ve been invited to social circles where no man has ever felt welcome. This is something unique in our experience and that thought is echoed by the many people in our many spheres. This gives us an opportunity to determine the shape of our reality without facing the backlash that might otherwise shut us down.
We can embrace the spaces expanding to welcome us and widen those lanes for others. We can continue to have every hard conversation to come our way. We can greet each moment of charity and grace from an unexpected place as if it was the only acceptable frame. We’ll both keep being pretty, each in our own way, and perhaps help others put their pretty into play. Confidence is contagious. A fait accompli well underway.
