#but another thing to be so adamant that he's a 100% binary trans woman that it comes off as more intrusive than anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

autismgavemychildvaccines · 5 years

Text

Why I’m Ashamed to Be Christian

So, now that I am literally sick of the Measles nonsense (no, fucking literally, working 12+ hour shifts on an incident management team has got me sick and tired enough to call in tomorrow), I’ve decided to do a non PH rant, though it’ll for sure rear it’s fucking head somewhere in here. Instead, let’s tackle something real fun. Religion! Time to buckle up. In my half fucking awake daze that I was just nudged out of, something really wild hit me. My faith, my belief in a very specific God with a specific book (though I admit that other religions, so long as their origin is not a company or a tool to oppress others on the outset, are valid/likely just as true) makes no God damned sense. (For reference, here I will claim my most closely related sect as my own; American Evangelism [though if one were to ask in person I’d say “non-denominational”, but historically, the two are close] and will be speaking as a part of a community I used to closely belong to but now have drifted away from on some granola-crunching dumbassery that is “I am a church of one” bullshit. I’ve wanted to be other things, but ever since I left the Freemasons, fuck all else has had much appeal.) So, first things first, Garden of Eden, right? Pretty fucking cool place, some might have even called it a perfect garden, a perfect place for humans and God to interact? But here’s my hang up with it. The trees of Life and Knowledge, and the rule that Adam and Eve could eat of any fruit except those grown upon that pair. Why even fucking have them?

When I asked that as a kid in a faith based area, they said because it was a test.

Of what?

“Well, of our loyalty to God and our Faith, of course”.

Except again, what the fuck? Like, I get the idea of free-will, in fact I am a huge believer in individual free will (I’ll get to that in a sec), but here’s the stickler here. As any other creative type will tell you, we want our work to take on a life of its own. Like say I wanted to program a remarkably bright AI, and it worked, and all I wanted was for it to recognize me as its creator and to discover and enjoy what home I could make for it. You know what I wouldn’t do? I wouldn’t give an AI, even with some simulated free will, the ability to break certain rules. For example, I wouldn’t allow it unrestricted access to the internet or my personal accounts. I wouldn’t even give it the concept that such things existed, let alone put it right fucking there to be used. That would be a flaw, an imperfection in an otherwise perfect place. And yeah, there’s something to be said for giving free will with not-free consequences, sure. But two things: 1) Don’t be pissed when the thing happens that you allowed to exist in the first place and thus forced it to be a mathematical certainty now that you’re dealing with perhaps the most curious species to ever exist. 2) Don’t go blaming them for a lack of faith. If anything, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, an act that abusers often use to get what they really want and have a thin veneer of an excuse to make happen. Now doesn’t that sound a lot like a good number of the followers of this faith, as opposed to an almighty, omnipotent, powerful being? Hmm, something to consider there, maybe. Speaking of followers, let’s actually also take a look at some of the prophets that we as American Christians often hold so dear. Now me? I’m a Luke guy, I like Luke. Peaceful, loving gospel for the most part, and I dig it. Peace and love, baby, that’s all I want coming from stories regarding a higher power that we had to hang up like a fucking tapestry to make sure we got all that love. But do you know who I fucking hate, and who I blame the most for how the American chruch is? Paul/Saul of Tarsus. Thiiiiiiiiiiis prick. This fucking Deus Vult Vulture. Actually in many ways, he really is the archetype to the Modern Evangelical fucking anything. Actively participated in the harassing, attempted extinguishing and successful terrorizing of a marginalized group. Then after being hit back for it, literally “seeing the light” and trying to be the fucking vanguard of said group only to lead it down a path where he’s suddenly the appointed expert of anything to do with the issue. And while he does this, he helps create the most violent and bigoted thoughts in the whole of the religion, and is praised for his visions as he says they are truly from God, and can thus act oh so righteously. This right here is a fucking problem, y’all. Like, I know the whole forgiveness idea allows for some mental gymnastics on how this could even happen, but even then to make a genocidal ass-face your de-facto leader aside from Christ himself for the next 2000 years is a fucking flip that even at the 1988 Olympics, if Christians were America, Russia would give them a straight 10/10. And yet, for many of us, that’s exactly what we’ve done. Hell, we’ve even fallen into the forced victim narrative of the synopsis of this asshole: “Oh well, you see, I was a heathen and thus I couldn’t help myself, but then like, the God of the people I was killing talked to me and like, now I have to do this (Take on the “burden” of leading the church) as penance for what I couldn’t help myself over.” We’ve fallen for it so much, that it may as well be hard wired into our nervous system to believe anything resembling it, just as we assume if something is flat, green and on a tree, it’s a leaf. Maybe it’s why we as a religion (and let’s face it, other Abrahamic religions as well) are so damn good at beating down the marginalized while screaming that we are the saints, we’re the sacrificiers trying to make things better. Like, let’s have some modern day fun with this bullshit, man; let’s see how we treated and in many places continue to treat women. Of the few churches I have been to, 100% of them had one dual-sided message that made me real fuckin’ uncomfortable, fam: Part 1) That women cannot be trusted onto themselves and thus 2) Men must take control of them and society to not allow for some unspecified “Ridiculous bullshit”. (as a fair heads up; I do fully recognize non-binary, trans individuals, etc, but for the sake of brevity I’ll be mostly referring to M/F in the traditional sort of way, because opening up Christianity’s treatment of anything regarding gender fluidity is a Ph.D. thesis for another day) Now, I don’t know about y’all, but I know damn well that out of all the dudes I know, and all the lasses I know, they’re a pretty mixed fuckin’ bunch. It’s almost like their gender assigned at birth doesn’t really affect how reasonable they could be as people nor how much responsibility they should have. Obviously some cultural practices skew this quite a bit in so far that women are expected to take more responsibility, younger, and for less praise, but if anything that should help destroy, not reinforce that message. And yet, the idea persists so much in Christian circles. And not just by the men themselves, but the women, also. For the longest time of my church going days, the pastor was a woman. She wholly believed it was just and right that her husband be in charge of everything, that women should be loyal to their men in all aspects. Then again, she also (despite recruiting members primarily from college) did not believe in evolution at all, so there’s that in terms of an intellectual hurdle. But regardless, this inherent submissive attitude within the faith (and even the half-hearted and self-congratulatory “Yeah but we REALLY are the ones making the decisions because we can withhold sex if we want” is essentially that too just a smidgen more empowering), when combined with the idea that men should be wholly in-control (which is a breeding ground for toxic masculinity if there ever was) is shameful. It’s what has allowed so much bullshit in the past, including these recent abortion laws. Now, I’m going to cover abortion in another post (I might get to it tomorrow; It’s been on the burner for weeks), but it’s super pertinent here. We, as a religion, have allowed ourselves to tell women (just as we tell/told minorities before) that they cannot be trusted with their own bodies, that they cannot be trusted when they speak, and most certainly cannot be trusted to truly hold dominion over anything. And that has allowed the most insidious, hateful, bigoted, disgusting things to happen in the name of God. A God that while I am writing this post I still believe in, but my doubts about how genuine the message has ever been is hitting home. One whose words about peace have been ignored when they could be interpreted or pointed to to support war, where the rich can profit off the poor, or to support sexism, because we as men historically have wanted to control “everything of ours”, or to take the very free will we claim to hold so dear from those who need the ability to make their own decisions the most. Words that have been used to hold down good people from making lives better. Words that in the hands of those who wanted, could be profaned and desecrated and thus allow for profane and disturbing events, both on the grand stage of the world and behind the closed doors of any house in some small town. Words which are held up with a wink and a nod so that followers feel included when they are scammed by some fucking fried chicken joint who wants to make more money to fight against equality, or to pay for another $9 million jet for some asshole who croons about how the poor should be grateful they do not have the temptations of the rich. To other followers, do you not lament that we are this way? That we have been this way for so long? Because I fucking do. And to those who have been discriminated or marginalized or whatever else against because of your gender or skin colour or situation or victimization or past deeds of any sort; I’m sorry. Genuinely, truly sorry you have suffered as you have. Sorry for what people have done thinking it was somehow morally or spiritually justified, sorry that they thought they were saving you. And I can assure you that I will never try to lead you as those before me have tried to. Though if it’s all the same, I’d like to get to hear you, and walk beside you.

5 notes · View notes

jameseros-blog · 6 years

Text

My personal struggle with GD

**Trigger Warning -- talk of genitals, sex, transphobia, and misogyny** This is a vent post about my feelings surrounding my gender dysphoria, how I figured out I almost definitely have it, and why my family would probably think I'm faking because of tucutes making trans people look like clowns. It is unorganized, entirely too long, might not make sense, and I'm positive I'm forgetting big details. I just need to get this off my chest though.

All throughout my life I've hated my body, and even though I could try to blame it on other problems, I had some pretty clear signs of gender dysphoria even before my life got fucked up. It all seemed normal to me though. I could rationalize it. I'm too masculine to fit in with girls; autistic females have a tendency to function on the same social level as neurotypical men. That makes sense. I hate my body; I definitely don't look like the girls I would like to date. That makes sense. I feel like cutting off my female chest and sometimes guiltily wish for a horrible disease that requires its removal; I'm a CSA survivor and was bullied in elementary school for my early development. That makes sense.

In middle school something started to happen that I couldn't explain though. I developed a "phantom penis". It actually felt like I had a fully functioning dick. I asked a guy friend what a boner felt like and he described what I felt perfectly. I never told anyone what I felt though. I just made a joke out of it. Whenever I felt a "hard on" I'd whisper to my friends "Suck my dick" or "My dick is hurting". We constantly made dick jokes so nothing seemed off about it. I liked the feeling of it. It upset me that it wasn't real. The feeling came around less often in high school and I wrote it off as nothing.

The inkling of negative sexual habits was already in place in 4th grade, but I fell into truly self destructive sexual habits in high school. I felt unsatisfied with life and everything regarding my existence. Every day was a chore I could barely manage. I wanted something to fill up how empty my life felt. I started using my tits to get free food in 4th grade. I would tell a couple of guys that I'd show them my tits on the last day of school if they would give me what ever food I wanted from them for the rest of the year. This took place up until 7th grade where they stopped believing me because I never held up my end of the promise. It didn't matter too much though because at this point they were already used to giving me food.

As 8th grade ended I noticed how unnaturally masculine I felt, even more so than before, like it didn't really fit my body. It was getting harder to blame it on my autism. That scared me so I went seeking some sort of validation that I was a woman. I found my first boyfriend. I've never really been one for romance, so our relationship quickly turned into something sexual. The entire thing made me uncomfortable. I hated the whole ordeal. I didn't really find him all that attractive, but I pretended to fairly convincingly. Neither of us wanted to be purely sexual, but it was the only thing I knew how to do so I kept being this sexual creature I hardly liked and barely knew. He broke up with me because we never really talked anymore and when we were together I always ended up sucking his dick. It was fine. I never stayed true to our relationship. I was sending nudes to people on the internet. They made me feel like I was a pretty girl, the kind I fantasized about. I could escape my real self and be someone else on the internet. It always felt like I was catfishing them. I never felt as feminine as I portrayed myself online.

My 10th grade year of high school I dated one of my ex boyfriend's best friends. The same thing happened as my last relationship. I'd try to change how unnaturally male I felt by being in the most misogynisticly feminine role I could think of. The first time I had "real" sex it felt good, but something was off about it. And I don't mean in the "the first time always sucks" kind of way. I'm a firm believer in if you are fully comfortable with a person and you both know each other's boundaries and there isn't any judgment between you, then there won't be anything uncomfortable about sex. We had all these things, but I still felt uncomfortable. Then he went down on me. I had another "phantom dick" moment; I could imagine him sucking me off as if I had a penis. That's when the discomfort ended. I couldn't explain that so I told no one and wrote it off as nothing.

I've always heard mentions of trans people in passing throughout my life. In 3rd grade I heard my friend call another boy a "he-she". When I asked him what that was he said it's a guy who dresses and acts like a girl. In middle school I learned there were surgeries to give males female genitals. In 9th grade my science teacher corrected a girl when she said "they have to cut off their balls and turn their dick inside out" in reference to mtf bottom surgery. I saw an article that same year about a man that gave birth and learned that ftm trans people exist. In that same 9th grade science class a girl mentioned the size of my chest when expressing her desire for bigger breasts. I spilled my guts about how much I hated having them. I realized that it wasn't a natural thing when other big chested girls told me it wasn't nearly as bad as I explained. It confused me that they didn't feel the same. At this point I still didn't know what GD was or what it actually meant to be trans.

I started to watch Blaire White. That set me on the path of finding more and more trans YouTubers. I connected to them in ways I didn't really understand. I felt less like an alien while watching their videos. I never connected this to my being trans though. They all had the same story of knowing when they were young. I never questioned my identity when I was young. I always just existed. When I look back at it I think I honestly should have questioned myself. If I weren't autistic I probably would have.

When I was young, about 4 or 5, it was the easiest thing in the world for me to just drop everything about being a girl so I could become James. This was done after hearing my dad say he wished he had a son. I insisted I was James for almost a year. Now that I'm older my nana has told me my dad was worried I might actually be trans and he didn't want me getting bullied when I go to school. He died when I was 5 or 6; this explains something that I'll touch on later.

Even after the James phase ended I prided myself on my masculine tendencies. I was proud to be "basically the son" of the family and "basically the brother" of my sisters. With my step dad we would make jokes about having a "guys night out". I would even try to dress as boyish as possible to get mistaken as a boy. One time I cried when a boy told me "I know you're a girl". When I found out girls could have beards I was extremely jealous and was confused by the fact I couldn't grow one. I've always hated long hair I always wanted it cut short in a boy's haircut. In middle school my friends told me I write like a guy as an insult, but I thought it was a genuine compliment. I've always had an obsession with extreme body modification. The idea that I could escape my body and look however I want was always appealing to me.

When I was young I held the belief that my thoughts and personality were exactly the same as a boy's. That was the reason I preferred to hang with guys. That was why I would feel happy when I was described as one of the guys. It was why I didn't connect with girls the same way as guys. When I was diagnosed with autism, I thought it explained why I felt like an alien among other girls, and why I fit perfectly with guys, and why my thoughts were so male to me. When I learned what GD was, it fit me too, but I thought I couldn't have it cause I didn't recognize it when I was young. Then I started watching the podcast 'You're So Brave' hearing the way they found out they were trans hit closer to home than any other time I heard stories of people discovering they're trans. I was still very iffy on if I had GD or not though. Kovu uploaded a video recently it basically sealed my belief that I have GD. I decided to list off all the ways I wish I could look. The look I created is absurdly masculine; tall, hairy, tatted, and rough. I couldn't be exactly that though. I'm far too short. Besides I'm not as one dimensional as that. I love the elegance of romantic goths and muted pastels are my favorite aesthetic. I love crop tops and even dresses. I'm very effeminate for a man. A lot of people hate on gnc trans guys, but honestly I relate to them hard. I'm still not 100 percent sure of my gender though. The only thing I know for sure is that I need my female chest gone.

Before I even started to question myself, I've heard my step dad's opinion on trans people. "There is no such thing as a third gender! I don't understand why these trans people keep trying to push this idea!" he says in reference to a completely binary trans woman who only wants to be seen as a woman and not a third gender. I defend them by saying the vast majority of trans people are completely binary, don't believe in three genders, and want to be fully recognized as the gender they transition to. He continues to think tucutes are the only kind of trans people there are and generalizes all trans people saying they all have the "76 genders" ideology. He thinks all trans women are instantly recognizable by their adam's apple despite the fact there is a reduction surgery and lots of cis women have prominent adam's apples. I won't even try to bring up non binary people to him. He'd never understand. My mom has backed him up on this multiple times. I can't come out to them. It's too dangerous. My step dad is a violent man that gets into lots of fights. (He's never hit me or my family; don't worry.) He has threatened to kick me out before and I know he and my mom have seriously considered it within the last year. I don't know if me coming out could result in my homelessness.

You may be thinking "You're 18, just move out." To that I say: I absolutely would, if I could. I'm autistic. It's a disability that leaves me unable to drive and makes it difficult to maintain a job. Not to mention no one has prepared me for living alone. I have a friend I could go to, but I don't want to live somewhere and not be able to give back to them in some way.

All I really want is to know for sure whether I have gender dysphoria or not. The only problem with that is all of the gender therapist in my area (deep south Alabama) have practices that sound eerily similar to conversion therapy. Even if I do come out and move in with my friend, I won't be able to get therapy or a diagnosis.

#ftm #transmeds #truscum #dysphoric

2 notes · View notes