Jarhyn
Wizard
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2010
- Messages
- 17,362
- Gender
- Androgyne; they/them
- Basic Beliefs
- Natural Philosophy, Game Theoretic Ethicist
So, this might be a really fucked up kinda thing to post here. It happened about an hour ago or so, and it was a very emotional time for me. Because it made me afraid. I felt I could not say anything in the context, but it was not ok to have been said or even stood for in the setting. It is an issue of gender politics and an issue of philosophy. Maybe it belongs in philosophy. But to me, this is political.
As scared and threatened I felt there, now I feel angry and justified only under the reasonable protection that nobody really knows me here. And they won't be attacked, but that people will not feel alone in seeing how problematic such views are.
I was in a cafe with my husband. I was having a bit of an overwhelming experience among all the people, and not knowing how or even if there was a line to order. We grabbed menus and sat down. He went to order somewhere else while I tried to have some isolation to gain my bearing, at a small table. And that's when a woman at the next table over started talking publicly about her interpretation of what seemed to be an awful piece of media from a foreign country that will remain anonymous(1).
She depicted it as a wonderful Utopia where women had every right to be as masculine as men are today. To have small breasts. Perhaps none? To be as they wished. And I agree with this entirely. It was something that warmed my heart. But she had a sound in her voice. I couldn't place it at first. And then my worries were realized. She went there. The next reveal of her review was a glowing praise of a sexist knife: "and the men are totally oppressed, and treated like women are today, totally effeminate."
She gushed over this fantastic arrangement. And then she stopped talking about it. It made me feel *awful*. Part of what made me feel awful was because I couldn't say anything. The fact I don't trust bystanders to even understand or to have heard the bullshit, and my lack of faith that I would have had the side of the public, however right I am here. Because I want to continue to be a man and decide what that means for me. There was not the time to communicate the context, so as not be the bad guy.
And you know what? Some of that context involves me, wishing I could try wearing a dress to a nice event even if I naturally move kind of apishly, and will not wear makeup. I would love to rock some heels. I would not like to be expected to. I do not want to be looked down on for that. I can rock some combat boots and soldier, too. I have. I liked it but I didn't like the people I did it with, or the reasons they did it, or their own miserable sexism and gay bashing culture.
My point is that she explicitly loved the use of force. It never turned around. It took too long to order and I felt trapped to either lose my shit in the crowd or die inside as she said it. Even when my husband got back, she continued and I could only nod my head in the "I feel hurt but this person" body language, while crying silently. I heard until she chose to change the subject to something my husband hated about the Middle East and how she wished she could see them do that there. I couldn't accuse her. I would have made a scene and gotten kicked out or even sued. I didn't have a phone that could record it. I had no social weapon. I have no *proof*, and if I was forced to weild it, I feel I would have no side that I would let side with me. I do not feel women should be degraded for doing or being as they wish, whether that means dress or tux or something else entirely. I don't feel they should be prohibited from being football players, even if they decide to use hormones to become stronger and larger. That kind of turns me on. And I don't care if someone decides that they are a man. Just as I don't wish anyone to mistake me for a woman, were I to wear a dress that flattered my ass and accentuated my meaty, hairy legs. I would like them to simply not make assumptions. Regardless of if I were not tucking the sausage.
The point is, I felt attacked for being a man, and for not being born a woman. And terrified for what people like her would say of my husband, who wasn't there to hear most of it. But he is a man who didn't get a choice about how he was raised because of what he was born with. And my ex (wife) didn't get much of a choice either. I wish I had supported her earlier even if it meant divorcing her sooner. Regardless, he said one of them gave an "I hate you" smile as they passed; my husband felt attacked for being exactly as she described women in her idyllic culture but for wanting to be accepted as a man.
Everything about this is fucked up. Don't be this woman. Don't be the masculine version of this woman, praising and dehumanizing women. And men like me.
(1)I refuse to "blame Canada", or let others. It is the idea that is as she praised it that is awful, not the place it was originated.
As scared and threatened I felt there, now I feel angry and justified only under the reasonable protection that nobody really knows me here. And they won't be attacked, but that people will not feel alone in seeing how problematic such views are.
I was in a cafe with my husband. I was having a bit of an overwhelming experience among all the people, and not knowing how or even if there was a line to order. We grabbed menus and sat down. He went to order somewhere else while I tried to have some isolation to gain my bearing, at a small table. And that's when a woman at the next table over started talking publicly about her interpretation of what seemed to be an awful piece of media from a foreign country that will remain anonymous(1).
She depicted it as a wonderful Utopia where women had every right to be as masculine as men are today. To have small breasts. Perhaps none? To be as they wished. And I agree with this entirely. It was something that warmed my heart. But she had a sound in her voice. I couldn't place it at first. And then my worries were realized. She went there. The next reveal of her review was a glowing praise of a sexist knife: "and the men are totally oppressed, and treated like women are today, totally effeminate."
She gushed over this fantastic arrangement. And then she stopped talking about it. It made me feel *awful*. Part of what made me feel awful was because I couldn't say anything. The fact I don't trust bystanders to even understand or to have heard the bullshit, and my lack of faith that I would have had the side of the public, however right I am here. Because I want to continue to be a man and decide what that means for me. There was not the time to communicate the context, so as not be the bad guy.
And you know what? Some of that context involves me, wishing I could try wearing a dress to a nice event even if I naturally move kind of apishly, and will not wear makeup. I would love to rock some heels. I would not like to be expected to. I do not want to be looked down on for that. I can rock some combat boots and soldier, too. I have. I liked it but I didn't like the people I did it with, or the reasons they did it, or their own miserable sexism and gay bashing culture.
My point is that she explicitly loved the use of force. It never turned around. It took too long to order and I felt trapped to either lose my shit in the crowd or die inside as she said it. Even when my husband got back, she continued and I could only nod my head in the "I feel hurt but this person" body language, while crying silently. I heard until she chose to change the subject to something my husband hated about the Middle East and how she wished she could see them do that there. I couldn't accuse her. I would have made a scene and gotten kicked out or even sued. I didn't have a phone that could record it. I had no social weapon. I have no *proof*, and if I was forced to weild it, I feel I would have no side that I would let side with me. I do not feel women should be degraded for doing or being as they wish, whether that means dress or tux or something else entirely. I don't feel they should be prohibited from being football players, even if they decide to use hormones to become stronger and larger. That kind of turns me on. And I don't care if someone decides that they are a man. Just as I don't wish anyone to mistake me for a woman, were I to wear a dress that flattered my ass and accentuated my meaty, hairy legs. I would like them to simply not make assumptions. Regardless of if I were not tucking the sausage.
The point is, I felt attacked for being a man, and for not being born a woman. And terrified for what people like her would say of my husband, who wasn't there to hear most of it. But he is a man who didn't get a choice about how he was raised because of what he was born with. And my ex (wife) didn't get much of a choice either. I wish I had supported her earlier even if it meant divorcing her sooner. Regardless, he said one of them gave an "I hate you" smile as they passed; my husband felt attacked for being exactly as she described women in her idyllic culture but for wanting to be accepted as a man.
Everything about this is fucked up. Don't be this woman. Don't be the masculine version of this woman, praising and dehumanizing women. And men like me.
(1)I refuse to "blame Canada", or let others. It is the idea that is as she praised it that is awful, not the place it was originated.