Ignore me:
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PS: There's !poetry@lemmy.world if you like having your mind 'sploded on the daily
That is not what the second tweet said. What it said was: "He just ordered the government to call you ."
Replace with the N-word. Does your logic still hold up? If not, why are you OK with one slur, but not another?
I'm sorry, I'm really trying my best not to add to the collective rage and negativity on this site, but this is deeply disingenuous. The second tweet is the kind of nonsense that edgy hack comedians do when they want to get away with bigoted "jokes". Wrap the offensive bit in layers of irony and detachment and rhetoricals, to distract from the fact that they are still saying the offensive bit.
There is currently an ongoing genocide against trans people in the United States. I am begging you to take this seriously, even if you're going to joke about it. Especially if you're going to joke about it, because humor is powerful and words have consequences.
Haven't a clue what this is about, but it still hits hard somehow.
Ugh, Shave is such a good artist it's infuriating. I couldn't have put it better myself.
Not a detransitioner specifically, but I am stuck in the closet for the forseeable future, so we might have some things in common 🥲
While I am not exactly a shining example of happiness and success, I have at least managed not to die by my own hand so far, which is not nothing, I guess.
There are basically two things that keep me going:
The systems that keep me in the closet do not just oppress me, they oppress most of the world. Which means that there will always be people to fight alongside. Even if trans liberation isn't their direct goal. Even if I have to hide my transness from them.
I may never become who I'm meant to be. But that doesn't mean there aren't still things worth doing. Everything counts.
Consider that people during the Cold War lived in very justified fear of global nuclear armageddon. If I had lived through those times, I would never have believed that despite decades of fingers hovering over self-destruct buttons, the world would still survive. And yet, here we are.
I don't know how, but maybe we'll survive this apocalypse. Maybe someday it'll be safe for me to transition. I intend to stick around to find out.
Good luck, and I wish you the best, fellow traveller. I've written on a similar note in another thread, maybe you'll find it helpful: https://lemmy.blahaj.zone/post/21727800/12811429
Sorry, but:
So you're a tough guy?
Like it really rough guy?
Just can't get enough guy?
Chest always so puffed guy?
I'm that bad type
Make your mama sad type
Make your girlfriend mad type
might seduce your dad type
I'm the bad guy
(duh)
Yikes.
Been down this road. I hope the author is still alive.
But it’s like the world keeps shifting the goalposts with every success, if that makes sense… Rediscovered myself only to open my eyes and be faced with the dumpster fire. 28 Days Later’s opening feels relatable, waking up from a coma and into an apocalypse. I keep feeling that I’m being thrown into different types of “deep ends,” over and over again…
Sigh... yeah, that's relatable. I am trying to train myself to accept the world as it is, without overemphasizing my own (and other people's) emotional reactions to them - keeping things in perspective, basically.
The best way I've found do this is, unfortunately, meditation (I know, they were right, god fucking damn it). But seriously, I've found it really helpful. Moreover, consider that meditation is a coping mechanism developed by people who lived in much shittier times than ours; Gautama Buddha is traditionally presented as having developed his teachings in response to suddenly becoming aware of horrific things, which is the exact thing that many of us have been going through for the past few years.
Here are some resources that have helped me:
https://annas-archive.org/md5/bd811e54438e39c709895c8a85a99e32
In this vein, there's a poem I want to share, from Kyle Tran Myhre's latest book. He doesn't seem to have posted it anywhere online, so I will just paste it, in a collapsible, below (pls don't sue me Kyle :3):
Hen March Fights On
In those wild early days, Hen March found herself surrounded by doubt. Some of that doubt was her own: bright blue lightning coursing through the larger cloud of other people’s doubt—their cynicism, their fatalism, their valid critique. The cloud, gray and formless, hung in the air outside Hen March’s always-open window. Sometimes that cloud spoke.
Sometimes, its voice was a hissing whisper like acid melting through glass. You’re never going to make it, you know. You never belonged here in the first place.
Other times, its voice was a soft murmur like rain. It’s okay that you’re going to fail. It doesn’t really matter. Nothing matters.
Still other times, its voice was clear, confident and enunciative, an inspiring roar. Let’s think about this rationally: what you aim to do simply won’t work. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t a hundred other things you could do. Why don’t you just go ahead and do those things!
Hen March listens to all the voices, because “just don’t listen to them” isn’t any kind of serious advice. She decides that if they were going to yap away at her anyway, she may as well get to know them.
The hissing whisper is afraid, always looking over her shoulder, waiting for something undefined—but bad—to happen. Hen March holds her hand, waits with her, and says this is also happening.
The soft murmur is tired, just so very tired. Hen March lets her nap on her shoulder, and says, it is okay to rest.
The inspiring roar is also afraid, underneath her bluster. She is bursting with ideas and possibilities but doesn’t know how to hold them. Hen March stays up late laughing and arguing with her. At one point, she says, we have time.
By taking the time to get to know her doubts, Hen March makes friends of them. Many years later, asked by a storyteller how she was able to keep fighting against such overwhelming odds, she remembers:
My doubts were always with me. When I got to know them, I was able to understand them as pieces of myself.
And the thing about me is I’m just a person. So no matter how cynical I felt, I was always able to remind myself that to surrender to cynicism is really to surrender to arrogance.
“Oh, I feel pessimistic, and I’m such a genius that I must be right!” Bah. Our fears, our doubts—they’re valid. But you don’t fight them; you don’t “beat” them. You try to understand them.
You try to be humble enough to remember that our personal doubts aren’t bigger than our collective power. They’re louder, sometimes, sure. But not bigger.
Finally, just a personal note before I log off and get back to the grind - I feel you, I really do. I remember being at the absolute end of my rope before; it was exhausting, and it hurts to know that you're there. I sincerely hope you feel better <3
Yep. You're not 'tin foil hatting', this is just what happened. Can't believe this still needs to be said, but here's a post I just made : https://lemmy.blahaj.zone/post/21747932
this is the nicest thing i have heard in months. this comment feels like a warm hug. i don't know you enough to say this, but i love you so much <3
well, i know you're right about the 'ugly' part at least, i corrected that. Still working on actually feeling it, but anyway ¯_(ツ)_/¯
thanks for the kind words anyway. at this point i'm pretty clear on who i am and what i should ideally be doing, i just need to work out basic survival atp :)
I believe you. You and your family deserve safety too
<3