themoonunderstood-blog

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Winifred Nicholson  (UK,1893-1981)  Sea Treasures 1952, oil on canvas

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Jose Manuel Ballester - Hidden Spaces

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Leonard Freed - Couples, West Berlin, 1965

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Adel Abdessemed (Algerian/French, b.1971), Forbidden Colors, 2018. Mixed media on canvas.

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Me: 

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My great aunt: "Your little brother is smoking marijuana and having bisexual sex with people he met online"

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As Pride celebrations around the country are underway, we lost another transwoman, this time directly at the hands of the state. Layleen Polanco Xtravaganza was found dead in her cell on Rikers Island today. She was scheduled to be released on the 13th. Layleen was a member of the legendary house of Xtravaganza and beloved in the NYC lgbtq community. Officials at Rikers, notorious for its abuse and in a long process to be closed, claim that there was no foul play suspected. We call bullshit. While Pride month is a celebration, it’s also a moment to reflect on the conditions which led to a need for such a celebration in the first place. Today, we are reminded of why Marsha P Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, Ms Majors, and the other courageous trans women at the Stonewall Inn rebelled in the first place. They resisted state violence, and fought for a world that would acknowledge their dignity and worth as humans and as women. They fought for a world that has yet to to exist. We have a responsibility to build that world, not just for them, but for Layleen and all the other transwomen stolen from us to soon. Rest in power Layleen Xtravaganza.

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all my pride art as of now!

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I wish the story of my mom could actually get some attention. But when I seek pity, I usually just get people who try to take advantage of me, or they treat me like a joke. 

It isn’t really ME in the shitty situation with a shitty life, my own life is kind of enviable, but still, it’s been very difficult for me to move forward and function normally knowing her condition every day. I hope that one day I can help her get out, but for now, I’m too scared to be in contact with her because she always turns on me and I’m hardly in the position to be able to do anything. She’s a brainwashed, paradoxical fascist. She is pretty much white trash even though she’s brown, she has no brown friends or family because she ran away and pushed us all away. 

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It sucks but I was hotter in middle and high school then I am now.

However, now I do smell better and am much better at doing makeup.

I was a loner, but I so lusted after. I was skinny but had a nice ass and a c-cup. I would choose to walk for miles and miles, in combat boots. I had hip bones and collar bones.

The classroom would stop when I had to write on the board.

I feel like I wasn’t approached more so because I was intimidating. Then when social media came about, people started to ask me out online. How pathetic. 

Even the most popular and cruel guys commented on how hot I was. 

I thought my acne was bad then but my scarring is worse than ever. From 19-22 I had the worst cystic breakouts I’ve ever had. I blame it on stress, and for experimenting with Ross and TjMaxx face washes. It’s finally clear, I expended the money on Whole Food’s products and finally did research on what would be best for cystic acne and oily combination skin.

Wearing sunscreen also helped a lot. I was never taught that I should always wear sunscreen.

Sadly I’m a lot fatter and out of shape right now. I have DD cups but they sag because I rarely wear a bra or stretch and work out. My legs and arms are still pretty thin, just got a gut with big saggy boobs. 

I mean, I’m happy with my body, I just miss the energy and euphoria that came with exercise. Sex is also a lot better. I can hardly ride a dick right now. 

I’m leaving my eyebrows thick forever because I like the stronger appeal they give, and they fit my face pretty well. So far, very few comments on how thick my eyebrows are when before I started tweezing them I got made fun of a lot. 

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Honestly, I’m good looking too.

Yet, unfairly enough, the only reason why my native mom was ever able to marry into a wealthy family is that she’s hot.

She’s 5′9″ like me, has big boobs and is curvy like me, has big lips, strong cheekbones.

I’m just a product of superficial capitalism rewarding the hottest.

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Okay, but can someone please acknowledge that using #BlackLivesMatter as something else in a joke (#flamingolivesmatter, one time someone said #urinarylivesmatter) is not funny and offensive to the actual, serious tag and cause to save black lives. 

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I like being objectified for my body when I'm doing sex stuff. But ONLY then. ONLY when I consensually share myself with you. & I ONLY want to be objectified for my body. I don't want something like my intelligence to be sexualized. I don't want people to objectify me when I'm fully clothed and going about my daily business, even in revealing clothes. But if I consensually give myself to you, YES a big basis of this is my body and I want you to turn me into your little sex doll. But still a human with needs who you want to make cum too. ;P

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I don’t understand SWERF’s who want to compare sex workers to sex dolls. You are taking humanity away from someone who provides sex work as a service. It really makes it seem like you perceive women as not being able to enjoy sex, as a sex doll can’t and has no emotions or ability to consent. Sex workers are all humans with a life outside of what they do for a living. They enjoy sex, experience emotions, and can give consent. Most of them lay down rules and boundaries.

The ones who can’t lay down rules and boundaries are being trafficked. Simple as that. But if someone is trying to explain to you why they prefer this way of life, as a sex doll could not talk or type at all, LISTEN to your fellow woman. Why on EARTH would so many women defend it?  Why would I boast about being able to travel and live well if I did something I hated? If I hated it, I would complain about it and ask for help. 

It isn’t the ideal career. It isn’t necessarily glamorous but can be posh. But many people choose it if they want or turn to it if it’s their best option. They are all defending it. Why do you insist on your logic that turns women into objects who don’t experience emotions or pleasure? Maybe they would be less at risk if you could fucking acknowledge the women who choose sex work as human beings with emotions and life. It isn’t all about them being a sex worker, it’s who they are outside of it that needs to be considered as they choose to do this and value them as an entire human yourself, if you want to save women from being sex dolls, stop calling them sex dolls, and try to consider them as an entire human of value who chooses sex work for whatever reason.

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I wish I had someone to openly talk to about stuff, to receive constructive criticism from. I have been very isolated from safe spaces as a drop out turned survival sex worker. 

People have attacked me for how I talk about some of my experiences, but what I need in these cases is constructive criticism, not outright sadistic backlash.

I really don’t mean to be transphobic. As a genderqueer person myself, when I talk about this stuff in a way that’s offensive I’m also hurting and misunderstanding myself. & I’m keeping myself out of my own community. I am incredibly lonely.

I don’t deserve to be gatekept from my own community. I don’t want to be placed with transphobes who try to act like I’m one of them. I’ve been trolled, really bad by TERF’s who followed me after posting about a supposed trans woman who tried to kill me after then posting about how life as a sex worker has afforded a lot of luxury and traveling. They called me a sex doll. 

I just don’t know how to put it. I genuinely believe that a militant nazi in disguise as a trans woman tried to gerrymander me and kill me. I would never accuse someone of this out of fear and hatred, I thought I loved them. I fucked the shit out of them, I was so happy to be with a woman, much more a communist goth. It hurt me so much to have to face the reality of what happened to me. The trauma and betrayal are indescribable. I blasted my brain with weed, coke, and alcohol, spent days in the dark, screaming into my pillow, replaying the most fucked up music. I’m so afraid to try to go out again. I’m at a point where I’m wondering how much of this revolution is real, or if I’m just going to be followed and targeted as an easy person who is still voiceless and has no power.

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I feel like my ability to mimic people is a unique talent. I don’t know where my real voice is, I just become whoever I’m with. & I seem to know how their head works more intensely than the average person. Sometimes, I do intentionally build my own voice and personality. But that takes time. Now, I have to acknowledge when I’m accidentally becoming someone and fight it. 

My tendency to mimic dominant men is totally also a symptom of gender dysphoria. I still sometimes contemplate if I was really meant to be born a male, but I counter this with the possibility of internalized misogyny that view my intelligence and dominant traits as not possibly being able to be feminine. But when I do embrace feminity, I feel like I embrace it as a once male, dressing my self up in prettiness and femme privileges such as being able to sell my sex and not having to do physical labor jobs, as well as taking a bunch of steps to take care of myself and becoming a glowing, good smelling goddess.

I feel like gender dysphoria comes from not being able to fit in with hyper-feminine women who do whatever they can to fit into the role they’re expected to. & I do get shit for being more open-minded and living against those roles. But when I turn to male friends I feel uncomfortable, am treated as lesser or being turned into a sex object. If I did change my sex I would still never fit into the adventure and free intellectual thinking of the male world. I get some look into their privileged world having to quietly listen to their discussion and debate, if I pipe in I’m mansplained into oblivion. In the femme world, much of our discussion revolves around being pretty and good enough for men, or it’s kind of nonsensical as a result of our trauma. There is cattiness and if you’re in any way better you’re treated badly due to envy or even sabotaged.

I used to say that I preferred male friends because of “less drama”. Feminists tear down that rhetoric as it implies that men are better than women. But in the normal femme world, there is a lot of drama, it’s unfortunate but it’s true. Women tear each other down to appeal to men. 

 Guys do it to each other too, however. Men treat sex as a competition. 

& Because of that, having male friends is still unpleasant. Sometimes the conversation is more intellectual and open, I still have heard a lot from men about ways to manipulate women into having sex with them, multiple women. & Since I’m the tomboy friend, I don’t get treated as a fellow male but a female who is undesirable. I get to listen, but can’t engage much without mansplaining. 

Women are the opposite, and the competition is to have as little sex as possible. The purest girl who wears the least revealing clothes wins.   

They are also less likely to open up about their real feelings with each other. Women, on the other hand, often do have a lot of erratic emotions, but I blame this on trauma and oppression. I haven’t had a lot of trauma or faced oppression so I always judged women when they got super emotional over nothing. I also wonder if I have more testosterone. On birth control, I did feel less in control of my emotions. 

I had a trans girlfriend who started taking femme hormone pills, unprescribed, while we were dating. I liked her so much less. I didn’t like the way she attributed her now feminine hormones to make her cry more or geek out over cute things. I like animals but never geeked out over cute things. This relationship really confused my sexuality and gender dysphoria. I was a lesbian who dressed androgynously, but that dick made me straight and I became a lot more feminine because I didn’t like being demonized for how I mimicked perceived masculinity. I was a dominant, open minded, intellectual romantic but I also had objectification issues and mimicked abusive men. I felt like I was too rough for women. But I realized years later that I felt too guilty, I never meant to harm my exgf, I even gave her an apology letter after breaking up with her the second time, and I couldn’t acknowledge how she lied to me about what K2 was, which could have killed me, and the main reason why I broke up with her was because I had to stop when she wouldn’t. But she attempted suicide and told people I used her for drugs. 12$ packs of K2 from the gas station, okay no. Then, sadly, my own queer friends shifted away from me. 

Having played male I see what issues the patriarchal male roles face. Good people are demonized while bad guys psyche their way out of their damage consequences. A good guy will apologize to someone who hurt them. His male placement makes him feel big, bad and grotesque compared to women. People believe that men can’t be abused. Men are subject to physical labor jobs, which is where I would much rather play a high femme role to get by as a sex worker. The fact that men are subject to be the rulers of the house gives them a big responsibility, that clearly many of them can’t handle when a cycle of abuse and dysfunction keeps happening. As a man, I can’t be pretty. I have to smell like dirtier things while women shroud themselves into becoming flowers to have sex with. Sex becomes a challenge in a world where I’m told to have as much as possible while women are told to have as little as possible. I’ll have sex with someone I don’t desire just to score points, then I wind up using someone and hurting them. If I can’t get women then I feel betrayed and need to lash out. No one ever taught me not to rape or understand appropriately why I’m always rejected, to be patient and accept who is for me instead of expecting the impossible. Even today I have to be the bigger supplier for needy women when they don’t make as much as me.

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They say that smiling uses fewer muscles then frowning, but if I am autistic, smiling is a challenge and forced effort. I’m not necessarily frowning, my mouth just sits at a moot point. People always ask me what’s wrong, or even compare me to a serial killer. I really feel fine, sometimes happier than ever.

I started to force myself to smile with teeth as a defense mechanism. I realized how my moot point face made me so weak. 

My smile still looks fake, and I get accused of having an attitude. So many people assume I don’t like them.