A Quick Vent
When I take a stand about issues of gender, it isn’t about, “politics.” There isn’t some secret, invisible party line I’m adhering to. When I say, “I find that phrase problematic / misogynistic / transphobic,” it’s not because like the sound of my own voice (or the clacking of my keyboard). If I suggest a different phrase for someone to use, it’s not that I’m ceaselessly pedantic.
When I speak up, it’s because I want my identity respected. When I voice my concerns, it’s because I’m tired of being beaten down or ignored. When I ask people to listen, it’s because I want to make the world a little safer, both for myself and for people like me. When I open up to people, and when I make myself vulnerable, it’s because I’m tired of being seen as “less than,” or as something flawed, broken, or disposable.
I don’t want “special” rights. I don’t want a pat on the head and a cookie for being a “unique snowflake.” That being said, I also don’t want to constantly have to be on my guard. I don’t want to have to wonder when and where I’ll be safe. I don’t want to have to deal with constantly being told that I am flawed, broken, or disposable. I want to live at least a day of my life without having to deal with misgendering, problematic language, or a nagging feeling of danger. I realize that the day in question may not come in a year, a decade, or ever. Really, only one thing is certain: if no one raises their voice, that day will never come.
